Dr. I. M. Cline, the chief of the weather bureau at Galveston, lived on the south side of Avenue Q, between Twenty-Fifth and Twenty-Sixth streets, in a strongly built frame house. It stood until houses all around it had gone down, and at last it had to give under the pressure of the wind and waves and other houses that were thrown against it, and with it about forty people went down, two-thirds of whom were drowned, among the number his wife. The first floor was elevated above the high water mark of 1875, and Dr. Cline thought he was safe there. He left his office and went to his home and family early in the afternoon. The office telephone had been in use nearly all the morning giving warning to the people who called up from exposed points along the beach to ask about the outlook. One man was posted at the telephone nearly every minute of the time, and to each inquiry the answer was sent over the wire, “The worst is not over yet.” LIVES SAVED BY FLIGHT. Barometer readings of this tropical terror had not been taken since it left Havana and Key West, for the reason that it was travelling across the gulf and after barometer readings could have been taken nearer Galveston and reported here communication was shut off. But the weather bureau knew the worst was not over, and so perhaps thousands along the beach had warning and sought safety in the center of the island before the storm broke here in its fury. This partly accounts for so many people who lived right on the beach, whole families in instances, being saved, people who lost everything but who saved their lives, while others who lived in stronger buildings nearer in, some of whom had passed through the 1875 and other storms thought of course they could weather it, and thus were lost. When the waters rushed into Dr. Cline’s home and began to rise rapidly he realized his peril, but it was then too late to escape. His brother, also of the weather bureau, Mr. Joe Cline, came to his rescue to help save the family or perish with them. Standing on his brother’s front porch Mr. Cline motioned to the neighbors on the opposite side of the street to go north, meaning to get out, for no voice could be heard across the street in the teeth of that terrible northeaster. This was the last warning that was given, and then the chief of the Weather Bureau, while with his devoted brother and their loved ones disappeared within their own homes to await their doom. It was not many hours coming. Higher and higher the water rose, and they mounted the second floor till the waves mounted higher, and buildings about them crashed and fell, adding to the number of inmates of the houses others who had been driven out and were seeking safety.