From his point of view on the California coast, the Chief saw himself on neutral ground at the center of four great forces. What happened would depend upon their relative strength and the resulting way in which they shoved one another around. Just to his south, the Pacific High still stood; it was probably the weakest of the four and was retreating, but it still possessed much capacity for passive resistance. Far to the north the great mass of polar air was rushing southeasterly across the prairies. Its most southerly isobar, however, bent around Seattle, and formed a disturbing southwesterly point. If it spread farther, this bulge might block the storm away from the coast. The third force was the storm over Winnipeg; its indications were definitely favorable. The fourth force was the storm which was approaching the coast; it too seemed to have plenty of energy and to be moving in the right direction.

With a slight exception, all the immediate forces thus seemed to be working for rain. But the Chief knew that more distant forces could have their influence—the new storm on the Texas coast, for instance. It too happened to be a favorable indication. There must be many forces even beyond the range of his map. Something happening anywhere in the temperate zone, in the northern hemisphere, or for that matter anywhere in the world, might falsify his forecast. But that was only a possibility, and a man must forecast probable, not possible, weather.

He made his decisions, and his actions suddenly came to have a continental, almost a god-like, sweep.

“Hey, Whitey,” he called, “get on the telephone, and order up storm-warnings on the coast—Point Arena to North Head.” He turned to his typewriter.

But the nearest telephone rang before Whitey could get to it. “It’s the Register again,” he said. The Chief committed himself to the inevitable.

“Complete forecast in five minutes. But tell ’em to set the headlines and get ready—it’s RAIN.”

4

In the engraving-room Whitey worked rapidly at the chalk-plate for the daily weather map. The room was sticky and acrid with the smell of the type-metal already melted for the casting. But the map would not reach many of the subscribers until the afternoon delivery, and already its news would be old.

•

“Sure—radio says there’s a rain comin’. I better be gettin’ the sheep sheltered. There’s quite a few young lambs.”

(From the Register. Page one.)

RAIN PREDICTED. Large Storm Nears Coast. The U.S. Weather Bureau this morning forecast that rain would fall generally throughout the central and northern parts of the state beginning late Sunday afternoon. A storm of large proportions is now centered a thousand miles west of Cape Mendocino and is advancing rapidly. Officials of the Weather Bureau declined to state what would be the duration of the storm and the amount of precipitation, other than to say that it would be considerable.