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house. After flinging open the door, he squeezed into the tight space beside the iron pipes of the pumping mechanism that supplied water to the farm. Phil squeezed in behind Frank.
    Joe was trailing. He was only ten yards from the pump house when he was shoved from behind and into the barbed-wire fence. The piece of porcelain went flying out of his hand.
    As Joe rose from the ground, he was tripped by a string of barbed wire wrapped around his right foot. The wind whipped with gale force.
    Just as he was reaching down to untangle himself, Joe was struck on the back of the head by a baseball-size hailstone. The force knocked him to the ground. He lay there, unable to move, nearly unconscious—and knowing that a tornado was going to touch down at any second.

5 Blown Away
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    â€œWhere’s Joe?” Frank shouted. “I have to go get him!”
    The rain and hail were so heavy, Frank couldn’t see two feet beyond the pump house door. Pushing past Phil, Frank reemerged from his safe shelter to look for his brother.
    Immediately, Frank was struck in the back by giant hailstones and driven to his knees. Though the wind was knocked out of him, he pushed forward, crawling toward the figure he could barely make out lying on the ground near the fence.
    Frank found Joe nearly unconscious. Pulling the barbed wire away from Joe’s foot, Frank reached beneath his brother’s arms and clasped his hands across Joe’s chest. Frank then backpedaledagainst the wind toward the shelter, dragging Joe with him.
    Phil helped Frank get Joe into the pump house and closed the door. “Is he all right?” Phil asked.
    Frank checked Joe, feeling the lump on the back of his head. “Looks like something hit him.”
    â€œHail,” Joe muttered.
    â€œWhat?” Phil said, leaning closer.
    â€œHail. I was hit by a piece the size of Mount Rushmore,” Joe joked, having regained his senses. “I’m okay, I think.”
    Frank touched the sore spots on his back. “I suddenly have more respect for the Blue Bomber. I’ve only been through one hailstorm, and I’m ready for the body shop.”
    â€œSomebody pushed me into the barbed wire,” Joe said, sitting up.
    â€œPushed you?” Frank asked.
    â€œI’m sure of it,” Joe said, wincing as he touched the bump.
    The wind howled outside. “What’s our best move, Phil?” Frank asked.
    â€œTo stay here until it passes over,” Phil replied, knocking on the concrete wall. “This is probably the safest place on the whole farm.”
    The wind soon died down. As the boys emerged from their cover, they saw that little more damage had occurred.
    Jansen walked over, soaking wet and holdingthe lid to an ice cooler over his head. Frank figured he had used it as a shield against hailstones. “Nothing touched down,” Jansen grumbled to the boys. “I guess it just isn’t my lucky day.”
    Frank and Joe shared a smile over the eccentric scientist’s reckless obsession with tornadoes.
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    Thirty minutes later the skies had cleared. “Hard to believe how quickly the weather can change,” Frank said to his brother as he buttoned up the dry denim shirt he had retrieved from his suitcase.
    â€œNo kidding,” Joe replied, toweling off his wet hair. He suddenly remembered something. “The piece of vase. I dropped it when I fell.”
    â€œLet’s take a look,” Frank suggested.
    Phil and the Hardys scoured every inch of ground surrounding the pump house and the section of fence where Joe had fallen, but they could find no trace of the broken piece.
    â€œThe storm must have blown it away,” Phil concluded. “You’re sure it said ‘Occupied Japan’?”
    â€œPositive,” Joe replied.
    Jansen joined them by the pump house. “We’re finished here, Phil. Let’s get back to headquarters.”
    â€œMr.