"There's a mass of iron ore there!" yelled Mr. Parker. "The
lightning is attracted to it!"
His voice was swallowed up in the terrific crash that followed,
and, as there came another flash of the celestial fire, the
figure in white could be seen hurrying back up the mountain
trail. Evidently the electrical storm, with lightning bolts
discharging so close, was too much for the "ghost."
In another instant it looked as if the whole place about where
the diamond seekers stood, was a mass of fire. Great forked
tongues of lightning leaped from the clouds, and seemed to lick
the ground. There was a rattle and bang of thunder, like the
firing of a battery of guns. Tom and the others felt themselves
tingling all over, as if they had hold of an electrical battery,
and there was a strong smell of sulphur in the air.
"We are in the midst of the storm!" cried Mr. Parker. "We are
standing on a mass of iron ore! Any minute may be our last!"
But fate had not intended the adventurers for death by
lightning. Almost as suddenly as it had begun, the discharge of
the tongues of fire ceased in the immediate vicinity of our
friends. They stood still--awed--not knowing what to do.
Then, once more, came a terrific clap! A great mass of fire,
like some red-hot ingot from a foundry, was hurled through the
air, straight at the face of the mountain, and at the spot where
the figure in white had stood but a few minutes before.
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