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diff --git a/26968.txt b/26968.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..54825fe --- /dev/null +++ b/26968.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1093 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Summer Snow Storm, by Adam Chase + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Summer Snow Storm + +Author: Adam Chase + +Illustrator: Llewellyn + +Release Date: October 19, 2008 [EBook #26968] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SUMMER SNOW STORM *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + SUMMER + SNOW STORM + + By ADAM CHASE + + + _Snow in summer is of course impossible. Any weather expert will + tell you so. Weather Bureau Chief Botts was certain no such + absurdity could occur. And he would have been right except for one + thing. It snowed that summer._ + + +It was, as the expression goes, raining cats and dogs. Since the Weather +Bureau had predicted fair and warmer, the Weather Bureau was not +particularly happy about the meteorological state of affairs. No one, +however was shocked. + +Until it started to snow. + +This was on the twenty-fifth of July in the U.S.A.... + +Half an hour before the fantastic meteorological turn of events, Bureau +Chief Botts dangled the forecast sheet before Johnny Sloman's bloodshot +eyes and barked, "It's all over the country by now, you dunderhead!" +Then, as an afterthought: "Did you write this?" + +"Yes," said Sloman miserably. + +Slowly, Botts said, "Temperature, eighty degrees. Precipitation +expected: snow. _Snow_, Sloman. Well, that's what it says." + +"It was a mistake, Chief. Just--heh-heh--a mistake." + +"The prediction should have been for fair and warmer!" Botts screamed. + +"But it's raining," Sloman pointed out. + +"We make mistakes," said Botts in a suddenly velvety voice. Then, as if +_that_ had been a mistake, bellowed: "But not this kind of mistake, +Sloman! Snow in July! We have a reputation to maintain! If not for +accuracy, at least for credulity." + +"Yes, sir," said Johnny Sloman. One of the troubles was, he had a +hangover. Although, actually, that was a consequence of the real +trouble. The real trouble was his fiancee. Make that his ex-fiancee. +Because last night Jo-Anne had left him. "You--you're just going no +place at all, Johnny Sloman," she had said. "You're on a treadmill +and--not even running very fast." She had given him back the +quarter-carat ring tearfully, but Johnny hadn't argued. Jo-Anne had a +stubborn streak and he knew when Jo-Anne's mind was made up. So Johnny +had gone and gotten drunk for the first time since the night after +college graduation, not too many years ago, and the result was a +nationally-distributed forecast of snow. + +Chief Botts' first flush of anger had now been replaced by self-pity. +His red, loose-jowled face was sagging and his eyes became watery as he +said, "At least you could have double-checked it. As a member of this +Bureau you only have to fill out the forecast once every ten days. Is +that so hard? Is there any reason why you should predict snow for July +25th?" His voice became silky soft as he added, "You realize, of course, +Sloman, that if this was anything but a civil service job you'd be out +on your ear for a stunt like this! Well, there are other ways. I can +pass over you for promotion. I _intend_ to pass over you until the +crack of doom. You'll be a GS-5 the rest of your working life. Are you +satisfied, Sloman? Snow in July ..." Chief Botts' voice trailed off, the +Chief following it. + +Johnny sat with his head in his hands until Harry Bettis, the GS-5 +weatherman who shared his small office with him, came in. Naturally, +hangover or no, Johnny had reported for work first. Johnny was always +first in the office, but it didn't seem to do any good. Now, Harry +Bettis could come in an hour late and read the funnies half the day and +flirt with the secretarial staff the other half and still be Chief +Botts' odds-on favorite for the promotion that was opening next month. +Harry Bettis was like that. + +He came in and gave Johnny the full treatment. First the slow spreading +smile. Then the chuckle. Then the loud, roaring belly-laugh. "Gals +outside told me!" he shouted, loud enough so the girls outside would +know he knew they had told him. "Snow! Snow in July! Sloman, you kill +me! You really do!" + +"Do you have to shout?" Johnny said. + +"Do I? We all ought to shout this. To the rooftops! Sloman, my foot. +You have a new name, sonny. Snowman! Johnny Snowman." + +[Illustration: Thick mud held him while terror ravened at his heels.] + +Johnny groaned. Instinctively, he knew the name would stick. + +"Hear you had a little trouble with the gal-friend this past p.m.," +Harry Bettis clucked in a voice which managed to be both derisive and +sympathetic. + +"How did you find out?" Johnny asked, but knew the answer at once. +Jo-Anne was a roommate of one of the Bureau Secretaries. It was how +Johnny had met her. + +"You know how I found out, Snowman. Well, that's tough luck, kiddo. But +tell me, does that mean the field is wide open? I always thought your +gal-friend--your _ex_-gal-friend--had the cutest pair of--" + +"I have nothing to do with whether the field is open or not open, I'm +afraid." + +"Well, don't be. Afraid, I mean," Harry Bettis advised jovially. "If the +gal could make you pull a boner like that, you're better off without +her. But I forgot to ask Maxine: can I have little Jo-Anne's phone +number? Huh, boy?" + +Before Johnny could answer, the three-girl staff of secretaries entered +the small office. Entered--and stared. + +"That's all right, girls," Harry Bettis said. "You didn't have to follow +me in here. I'd have been right out." + +But they weren't staring at Harry Bettis. They were staring at Johnny. +Their mouths had flapped open, their eyes were big and round. Johnny +didn't, but Harry Bettis knew that look on a girl's face. Without any +trouble at all, Johnny could have made any of those girls, right there, +right then, without even trying. + +They gawked and gawked. One of them pointed at the window. The others +tried to, but their hands were trembling. + +The one who was pointing squawked: "Look!" + +The second one said, "Out the window!" + +The third one said, "Will you!" + +Outside the window on the twenty-fifth of July it was snowing. + + * * * * * + +It was an hour later. Telephones were ringing. Long-distance calls from +all over the country now that the ticker had gone out with the +incredible fact that it was snowing in the Northeast in July. Most of +the calls, though, were from Washington. Chief Botts disconnected the +PBX and walked in a dazed, staggering fashion to Johnny, smiling weakly +and saying: + +"Sloman, I misjudged you. Genius, right here, right now, in this office, +and we never knew it. Sloman, I have to admit I was wrong about you. But +how did you know? How did you ever know?" + +"Hell's bells," Harry Bettis said before Johnny could say it was all a +mistake. "That's easy, Chief. Anyone knows that _all_ rain starts out as +snow. It's got to. You see, the droplets of moisture in the cold upper +regions of a cloud condense around dust particles because the air up +there is too cold to hold them as vapor. Since it's below freezing, snow +is formed--snow which warms up as it passes through hotter air en route +to the ground, and--" + +"That will be quite enough, Bettis," Chief Botts said. "I am a +weatherman too, you know. You don't have to tell me the most elementary +of--" + +"In this case, Chief," Bettis persisted, "the biggest inversion layer +you ever saw kept the surface air down and brought the cold upper air +very close to the surface. Result: the snowflakes didn't have a chance +to melt, not even to freezing rain. Result: snow!" + +"The chances of that happening," said Chief Botts coldly, "are about one +in a billion. Aren't they, Sloman, dear fellow?" + +"One in two billion," Johnny said. + +"He _is_ modest," Chief Botts told the staff. "He seems so unconcerned." + +Just then Maxine came into the little office. The look of awe on her +face had been replaced by one of sheer amazement. "Well, I checked it, +Chief," she said. "Wait until I tell Jo-Anne!" + +"Won't you please tell us first?" Chief Botts asked. + +"Yes, sir," said Maxine, and read from the memo pad in her hand. "Since +coming to work for the Bureau, Johnny Sloman has once every ten days +made our official forecast. I have checked back on his forecast, Chief, +as you directed. Johnny has made fifty-five forecasts. While only one of +them--startlingly--has called for snow in July--every single one of them +has been right." + +There was a shocked silence. "But--but the Weather Bureau average is +only eighty-eight percent!" Harry Bettis gasped. + +"You mean," Chief Botts corrected him, "eighty-eight percent is the +figure we try to foist on the unsuspecting public. Actually, the Weather +Bureau averages a bare seventy-five percent, and you know it." + +"But Sloman's got a hundred percent accuracy--up to and including snow +in July," Harry Bettis said in a shocked voice. + +"It was only an accident," Johnny said in a mild voice. "I didn't mean +to write snow." + +"Accident, smaccident," said Harry Bettis. "It was no accident with a +record like that. You have the uncanny ability to forecast weather with +complete accuracy, Johnny-boy. You realize what that means, old pal?" + +"I'd better call Washington and tell them," Chief Botts said, but Harry +Bettis held his arm while Johnny mused: + +"I guess I realize what it means, Harry. That is, if you're right. No +more getting wet on picnics. Because I'd know. I'd know, Harry. No more +going to ball games and having them rained out on you. No more being +caught by a thunderstorm at the beach ..." + +"Johnny!" Harry Bettis said. "Think, pal. Think!" + +"I'm calling Washington," Chief Botts said. "This is too much for me." + +But Harry Bettis was still holding his arm. "Now, just a minute, bucko," +he said. "You're not calling anyone--not without his manager's +permission." + +"Whose manager's permission?" + +"Why, Mr. Sloman's manager's permission, of course. In a word, me." + +"This is preposterous!" Chief Botts cried. + +"Is it?" Bettis asked. "Listen, Johnny, don't let anyone sell you a bill +of goods--like the Civil Service Commission giving you a GS-8 rating and +sending you to Washington. Because stick with me, kid, and there'll be +great things in store for you, you'll see." + +"Such," said Maxine dubiously, "as what?" + +"Are you on our side?" Harry Bettis asked her suspiciously. + +"I'm on Jo-Anne's side. If old Johnny here has something she ought to +have, I want to know it." + + * * * * * + +"You mean, if she ought to change her mind and marry him? I'll admit it +even if I think Jo-Anne's a real cute trick: she'd be nuts if she +didn't." Women, Harry Bettis did not add, never came between Harry +Bettis and ten percent of a gold mine. But that's what he was thinking. +He went on: "Just think of it, Johnny. Drought in the Midwest. They call +Sloman. Sloman predicts rain. It rains. Have any idea what they'd pay +for a stunt like that? Or swollen rivers in New England, or California. +Looks like another big flood is on the way, but they call Sloman. Looks +like rain, kiddo? That don't matter. Predict a dry spell and it won't +rain. Do you know," Harry Bettis said in a devout whisper, "what a stunt +like that would be worth? Millions." + +"Yeah, wise guy," said Maxine. "So what's in it for you?" + +Harry Bettis did not look at Maxine when he answered. He looked at +Johnny and said, "I'll be frank, kiddo. You have the talent, but you +don't have the salesmanship to promote it. Do you want a mediocre job +while the weather boys exploit you for the rest of your life or--do you +want greatness, riches, and Jo-Anne?" + +"Jo-Anne," Johnny said. + +Harry Bettis nodded. "My price is twenty-five percent." + +"Of Jo-Anne?" Maxine asked suspiciously. + +"Of everything Johnny makes as the world's first _real_ Weather Man. Not +a forecaster--a commander. Because when my client forecasts the weather, +it happens. Brothers and sisters, it happens." He turned abruptly to +Johnny, said, "You have any money saved up?" + +"A few hundred dollars, but--" + +"An ad in the papers. Alongside the article telling how it snowed on +July twenty-fifth. Saying that your services are for hire. We're a +shoo-in, kid!" + +"Well, if you say so," Johnny said doubtfully. + +"So don't call D.C.," Bettis told Chief Botts. + +"But Sloman's an employee of this Bureau." + +"Was, you mean." + +"What did you say?" + +"Was an employee. He ain't an employee now. He's quitting--with his +manager," said Harry Bettis, and walked out of the office, steering a +dazed Johnny Sloman with him. + +"Wait until I call Jo-Anne," Maxine said. + +During the next six months, Johnny Sloman--known to the world as The +Weather Man--made fifty million dollars. Since it had taken a whole +lifetime for him to develop his remarkable talent, his lawyers were +trying to have capital gains declared on the earnings rather than +straight income tax. The odds seemed to be in their favor. + +How had Johnny made his fifty million dollars? By predicting the +weather. He predicted: + +A flood in the Texas panhandle--in time to save the dry lands from going +entirely arid. + +An end of the snowstorms in northern Canada--which had trapped the five +hundred residents of a small uranium-mining town without food or +adequate drinking water. + +The break-up of Hurricane Anita--which had threatened to be the most +destructive ever to strike the Carolina Coast. + +No frost for Florida that winter--a prediction still to be ascertained, +but a foregone conclusion. + +Every prediction had come true. In time, the world began to realize that +his predictions were not predictions at all: they were sure things. That +is, they predicted nothing--they _made_ things happen. Johnny was in +demand everywhere and naturally could not fill all engagements. Harry +Bettis hired a whole squad of corresponding secretaries, whose job it +was to turn down, with regret, some ninety percent of the jobs +requested. Johnny, in fact, was in such demand, that his engagement to +Jo-Anne--which, of course, had been reinstated at her insistence--remained +only an engagement. The nuptials were put off, and put off again. + +This suited Harry Bettis, who saw to it that Johnny kept putting off the +marriage. Because, ultimately, Jo-Anne would reach the end of her +proverbial tether and decide that Harry's twenty-five percent, if it +could be shared as a wife, was better than Johnny's seventy-five +percent, if it could not. + +Jo-Anne, though, was not that kind of girl. Harry Bettis, knowing no +other kind of girl, never understood that. + +The scientists, meanwhile, had a field day with Johnny. His strange +talent obeyed no natural law, they said, and at first attributed it to +random chance. Soon, though, this became patently impossible. And so a +new natural law was sought. All types of hair-brained theories were +proposed, none of them accepted, until an osteopathic physician in +Duluth, Minn., hit upon the theory that staggered the world with its +simplicity and, eventually, was accepted as that which explained the +strange phenomenon of Johnny Sloman. + +The osteopath, many of whose patients suffered from rheumatism which was +aggravated by the bitter Minnesota winters, suggested that Johnny Sloman +was a case of rheumatism in reverse. The weather, he pointed out, had an +adverse effect upon the symptoms of his patients. Conversely, why +couldn't some human being--a Johnny Sloman, for example--affect the +weather in precisely the same way that the weather invariably affected +his rheumatic patients? + +It was clear, simple, lucid. It was the only theory which could not be +disproven by the weight of scientific knowledge. It thus became the +accepted theory. + + * * * * * + +"The Under-Secretary of Defense to see you," Maxine said one day during +the winter following Johnny's July snowfall. + +"Don't see him," Harry Bettis said. "You don't want to see him." + +"But why not?" Johnny asked. + +"Because they'll make you a dollar-a-year man and we're not in this to +make any stinking dollar a year," Harry Bettis said. + +"Well, I think I ought to see him, anyway. At least see him." He turned +to Jo-Anne, who was sitting at the next desk, writing up some reports. +"What do you think, Jo?" + +"If the country needs you, Johnny," she said, "it's your duty to help." + +Johnny told Maxine, "Show the Under-Secretary in, please." + +He was a small man with a big brief case. He spoke slowly, earnestly, +backing up his statements with reams of paper from the brief case. The +Defense Department had not contacted Johnny right away, he said, because +they wanted to compile all the facts. They had all the facts now. + +Johnny Sloman could be the biggest single factor for peace the world had +ever known. + +Item. In the event of aggression, he could so bog down the aggressor's +supply lines and troop movements with continuous rains and snowstorms +that it would be all but impossible for the aggressor to maintain +hostilities. + +Item. In the event that such tactical weather-war failed, he could cause +a drought in the aggressor's food-producing regions, forcing the +aggressor to surrender or face starvation. + +Item. He could always, conversely, see to it that the defensive force's +supply lines were never hampered by the weather and that the +precipitation over the defensive country's breadbasket was ideal. + +Item. He could render aggressor communication difficult with heavy fog +and/or icy roads. + +Item. He could cover defensive troop movements with low, dense clouds. + +In short, concluded the Under-Secretary, Johnny Sloman could be a +one-man world police-force practically guaranteeing peace. He stopped +talking. He looked at Johnny. His eyes said, the call of duty is clear. + +Harry Bettis said, "Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Secretary. +Naturally, we'll think about what you said." + +"Think about it!" gasped the Under-Secretary. "Think about it!" + +"My client is a busy man--the busiest man in his field," Harry Bettis +said. + +The Under-Secretary smiled bleakly. "The only man in his field, you +mean. That's why we need him." + +"We'll send you a report in a few weeks," Harry said indifferently, +"after we've had an opportunity to study the situation." + +"But, Harry--" Johnny began. + +"Johnny," Harry said. He did not have to finish the statement. It had +happened before--"Johnny, I've made you a tremendous success. I'm your +manager, aren't I? Let's leave it that way." + +"If Johnny thinks he ought to help--" Jo-Anne said. + +"Now, Jo-Anne," Harry Bettis scolded, and led the Under-Secretary to the +door. + + * * * * * + +Three days later, the assistant chief of the F.B.I. came to see them. +"We regret this, Sloman," he said. + +"You regret what?" Harry Bettis asked. + +"Defense allowed a report on its findings out. That was unwise. We'll +have to give you around-the-clock protection, Sloman." + +"Protection from what?" Johnny wanted to know. + +"Enemy agents. The enemy is desperate. At all costs, according to their +intelligence reports, they're out to get you." + +"Get him?" said Harry Bettis. "You mean, kill him?" + +"I mean, get him. Get him on their side. Because everything Johnny could +do for the forces of peace and democracy, he could be made to do for +the forces of aggression. You see?" + +"Yes," said Johnny. + +"No," said Harry Bettis. "This sounds like a government trick--to make +Johnny go to work. To make him think it's his patriotic duty--" + +"Well," said Jo-Anne sharply, "isn't it?" + +Harry Bettis smiled. "When he gets as big as Universal Motors, he can +become patriotic." + +"Mr. Sloman," the assistant F.B.I. chief said, "they will either try to +kidnap you outright, or work on you through someone you love. Therefore, +our bodyguards--" + +"Well, let them keep their distance, that's all," Bettis said. "Bad for +business. Nobody wants enemy agents hanging around." + +"That's your final decision?" the F.B.I. man asked. + +"Well--" began Johnny. + +"Yes, it's our final decision," said Harry Bettis, showing the F.B.I. +man to the door. + +"I don't think you should have done that," Johnny said after he had +gone. + +"You just make the weather, Johnny-boy. I'll take care of business." + +"Well--" said Johnny. + +"Johnny!" cried Jo-Anne. "Oh, Johnny! Why don't you act like a man?" And +she ran from the room, slamming the door. + +After that, Johnny didn't see her again. + +She was gone. + +Really gone, for certain, not simply walking off in a huff. + +Two weeks later, Johnny got the letter--unofficial--from the Enemy. + + * * * * * + +The F.B.I. was sympathetic, but the Chief said, "You can understand, Mr. +Sloman, how our hands are tied. It is not an official letter. We can't +prove anything. We don't doubt it for a minute, of course. The cold war +enemy has kidnapped your fiancee and taken her to their motherland. +But--we can't prove it. Not being able to prove it, we can't do a thing +about it. You're aware, of course, of how readily the rest of the world +condemns our actions. Not that they wouldn't be on our side if we could +prove that this kidnap letter was the real thing, but you realize we +won't be able to prove it at all." + +"Oh," said Johnny. He went home. He saw Harry Bettis, who said he was +shocked. The note read: + + Mr. Johnny Sloman: + + We have Miss Jo-Anne Davis here in the motherland. The only way she + can live a normal life here is if you join her and work for us. We + believe you know what the other kind of life is like here. + +Bettis said, "It stumps the hell out of me, Johnny." + +"I'm just waking up," said Johnny slowly. "In a way, it's your fault." + +"Now, don't be a jackass, Johnny." + +Jackass or no, Johnny hit him. His knuckles went crunch and Harry +Bettis' nose went crunch and Bettis fell down. He lay there, his nose +not looking so good. + +Now, when it was apparently too late, Johnny knew what his course of +action should have been. Get rid of the money-grubbing Bettis. Go to +work for the government unselfishly. Insure world peace. + +Too late ... too late ... + +Because unless he could somehow save Jo-Anne, he would never predict the +weather again--for anyone. + + * * * * * + +"But what you ask is impossible!" the Secretary of Defense said a few +days later. + +"If I come back, if I'm successful," Johnny said quietly, "I'm your +man, for as long as you want me, without pay." + +"You mean that?" the Secretary asked slowly. + +"I mean it." + +The Secretary nodded grimly, touched a button on his desk. "Get me Air +Force Chief of Staff Burns," he said, and, a moment later: "Bernie? +Chuck here. We need a plane. A jet-transport to go you-know-where. +Cargo? One man, in a parachute. Can you manage it? Immediately, if not +sooner. Good boy, Bernie. No ... no, I'm sorry, I can't tell you a thing +about it." The Secretary cut the connection, turned to Johnny: + +"You leave this afternoon, Sloman. You realize, of course, there isn't a +thing we can do to get you out. Not a thing." + +"Yes," said Johnny. + +"You're a very brave man, or very much in love." + +Hours later, the jet transport took off with Johnny in it. + +He came down near what had been the border of the motherland and Poland. +He began to walk. A farmer and his son spotted the parachute, came after +him. The son was a Red Army man on leave. The son had a gun. He fired +prematurely, and Johnny ran. It was hopeless, he decided. He would +never make it. He would never even reach the capital alive, where they +were holding Jo-Anne. + +He ran. + +He wished for rain. A blinding rainstorm. The clouds scudded in. The +rain fell in buckets. The farmer and his son soon lost sight of Johnny. + +Just to make sure, Johnny ran and let it go on raining. + + * * * * * + +"Floods in their motherland," the Secretary of Defense told the +President. "Naturally, their news broadcasts are trying to keep the +reports to a minimum, but these are the biggest floods we've ever heard +of over there." + +"Our man is there?" the President asked. + +"He was dropped by parachute, sir!" + + * * * * * + +It was snowing when Johnny reached the capital. He had been parachuted +into the enemy's motherland, naturally, because propinquity alone +assured the success of his strange talent. + +He was tired. His feet ached. He'd been the only one heading for the +capital. Hundreds of thousands had been fleeing from the floods ... + +"There he is!" a voice cried in the enemy language. He didn't understand +the language, but he understood the tone. His picture had been flashed +across the length and breadth of the motherland. He had been spotted. + +He ran. Down an alley, across a muddy yard, floundering to his knees, +then his thighs, in thick mud. They came floundering in pursuit. They +fired a warning volley of shots. He stumbled and fell face down in the +black, stinking mud. + +They took him ... + + * * * * * + +Dark room. One light, on his face. A voice: "We can kill you." + +"Kill me," he said. "My last wish will be for rain. Rain, forever." + +"We can torture you." + +"And I will say, before you start, let it rain and go on raining. Let me +be powerless to prevent it. Rain!" + +"We can kill the girl." + +"Your country will float away." + +A fist came at him out of the darkness. Hit him. It was tentative +torture. He sobbed and thought: rain, harder. Rain, rain, rain ... + +Water seeped into the dungeon. This had never happened before. The fist +went away. + +Outside it rained and rained. + + * * * * * + +"What does he want, comrade?" + +"We don't know, comrade." + +"Give it to him--whatever it is. He has disrupted our entire economy. We +face economic disaster unless he--and his rain--leave us in peace." + +"Perhaps that is what he wants. Peace." + +"You fool! We are supposed to want peace. Shut up!" + +"Yes, sir. Comrade." + +"Better ask the party secretary." + +"Yes, comrade." + +The party secretary was asked. The party secretary sighed and nodded. + +Johnny saw the light of day. And Jo-Anne. + + * * * * * + +A month later, the Secretary of Defense told him. "Thanks to you, they +agreed to a German settlement, stopped sending arms to their Red ally in +Asia, withdrew their promise of aid to the Arab fanatics, and have +freed all foreigners held in their motherland illegally." + +Johnny listened, smiling at Jo-Anne. They had been married two weeks. +Naturally, the enemy had been only too glad to see them leave. + +"Just stay available, Sloman," the President beamed from alongside the +Secretary of Defense. "As long as they know we can always send you over +there again, they'll never try anything. Right?" + +"Yes, sir," said Johnny. + +They called him the Weather Man. They went on calling him the Weather +Man, although he retired more or less--except during cases of dire +emergency. + +The world called him that, the Weather Man. And, because he had retired +to enjoy life with his new wife, they began to suspect, as could be +expected, that he had been a fraud. + +But the enemy did not think so. Ever again. + +And that was enough for Johnny. + + +THE END + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Amazing Stories_ October 1956. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. 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