Free Danny Dunn and the Weather Machine by Jay Williams, Raymond Abrashkin Page B

He’s flying a Piper Tri-Pacer. What we hear is a twin-engine plane.”
    He squinted through the downpour. Out of the clouds swooped a silvery passenger plane. It bounced on the runway, and rolled to a stop, turning in toward the hangar. Its door opened and several people got out and ran for the airport office with their coat collars turned up.
    But one of the passengers did not run. He looked about at the rain and at the joyful townspeople, and smiled benevolently. He wiped his glasses, and then started for the office at a deliberate walk, as if he were enjoying the warm, delicious summer shower.
    It was Professor Bullfinch, home in time for lunch after all.
    CHAPTER SIXTEEN
    Whatever Goes Up—
    Joe slumped back against the wall. “Danny,” he said. “Suddenly I don’t feel so good.”
    Danny was pale. Irene, biting her lip, said, “What shall we do, Dan?”
    â€œThat’s easy,” said Joe. “Let’s go home and hide in a closet. And lock the door. And die.”
    Danny straightened, squaring his shoulders. “There’s only one thing to do,” he said.
    â€œYou mean just die?” said Joe. “And never mind about going home or getting into a closet?”
    â€œNo. It’ll be my fault if the machine is smashed. I’m going out to tell the Professor.” Danny took a deep breath. He walked out into the rain. After a moment’s hesitation, the other two followed him.
    He went up to the Professor, swallowed hard, and then said, “Hi, Professor Bullfinch.”
    â€œWhy, Danny,” said the Professor happily, “did you come to meet me? That was very thoughtful of you.”
    â€œYes.” Danny’s throat seemed to be plugged up. Then he said, “Er—nice weather we’re having, isn’t it?”
    The Professor chuckled. “Now, that’s an interesting statement. On the basis of observation, and without detailed research, it would appear that you’re wrong because it’s raining. But on the other hand, since the rain is so badly needed, perhaps it is nice weather after all.”
    â€œYes,” said Danny. “Listen, Professor. I wanted to—”
    â€œI know, I know. You’re anxious to learn how my meeting with the chairman of the Academy of Scientific Research came out. The results were excellent! I have just time to go home for a bite of lunch, and then I must return to Washington on the first plane I can catch this afternoon. They want to examine my transmitter without delay. Isn’t that wonderful?”
    Danny simply groaned.
    â€œDear me,” said the Professor, looking worried. “I appreciate your coming to meet me, but perhaps if you don’t feel well—”
    â€œProfessor Bullfinch,” Joe put in, clearing his throat. “On the basis of observation and without detailed research, I would say that we’re all getting soaked. Can’t we go in where it’s dry?”
    The Professor nodded. “A practical man is always welcome in the field of science.”
    Just then, the two Elswings, now both under the umbrella, came by. They had made up their quarrel and they nodded to the Professor, for they both knew him.
    â€œAh, Frank,” said Professor Bullfinch, “it’s good to see you. And you, Ralph. Can we go into the weather station with you, and phone for a taxi?”
    â€œCertainly,” said Frank. “Come along.”
    He led them to the weather station. When they got inside and were shaking the rain from their clothing, he turned to his brother with an exclamation of annoyance.
    â€œI do wish you weren’t so pessimistic, Ralph,” he said. “You were so sure it wouldn’t rain that you left the windows open. Now look at the place. Everything’s sopping wet.”
    To add to the general wetness, Vanderbilt chose that time to shake himself, and for a moment the room was full of flying spray.
    â€œGet that