By CYRUS
CHAPTER XIX Continued.
12
"I don't see him. lie's not there,"
she said at last, handing the glass hack
to Its owner.
u "If he were there, you'd soe him all
Ight," said Winters enthusiastically, j
f'beeause he'd be iu the thick of the j
"I doubt if you can recognize any
jone, even through the glass, at such a !
distance," said Rodney, after he had
focused It and taken a look himself. .
iYet If he were there, he certainly
jwould be In the thick of it
kind. You look, Dick."
j "I can't see him," said Winters in
jturn. "Rut what a fight they are mak
ing to save that dam."
I s "Will it hold?" asked the woman,
j - "Impossible," said Rodney.
J "'I give it cne hour," said Winters,
'handing over the glass.
"Not more than that," assented the
jotlier, after another look. "See for
jyourself, Miss Ulingworth."
From where they stood, high up on
the roof of the world, they were spec
tators of a great battle, witnesses of
a terrible contest, in which herculean
effort, desperate courage, human will,
jail exerted to the limit, finally de
generated into blind, mechanical habit
of continuous and frenzied endeavor.
The spirit of reckless continuance had
TtJnto them and moved them to the
Impossible. As men in a battle charge
go on even with wounds enough to kill
them in ordinary circumstances, as sol
diers at Winchester, though shot in the
heart, actually struggled after Sheri
dan until they fell, or even as a com
mon horse may so be Imbued with
blind intensity of determination that
lie gallops on until he drops dead.
.so these men gave their all In unmatch-
.a'ble persistence.
. "'They'd better get off that dam," said
Rodney. "When It once fails it'll go
with a rush and then it'll be too late."
"Look at them. They're not going
to get off," said Winters. "They're
going down with it. Fools. Gwd bless
"em I" he shouted, throwing up his
firms In exultation over manhood and
courage and determination.
"Perhaps you had better go back,
Ilss Ulingworth." said Rodney, think
ing of the horror she might witness at
any moment.
"I wouldn't be elsewhere for the
world," said the brave girl, white but
with firm lips she was made of the
same stuff us the lighting men, It
seemed "even if he were there, fight
ing that great battle, I should wait to
see the end."
"'We're not the only people in this
Wilderness. Look yonder !" cried Win
ters. lie pointed down through the cease
' less rain toward the lower edge of the
mesa. There, far below him, were
three sodden figures. The water in the
lake had Hooded the slope of the hill,
and on that side it was lapping the
base of the cliff. The trail had, of
course, been covered, and there was no
vay of progress except by taking ad
vantage of the broken rock at the foot
of the cliff, which here and there still
stood above the water. It was a place
where men could only pass by carefully
choosing their way and calculating the
distance of the next point toward
which to leap. These three were mov
ing like madmen, splashing through
the water, hurling themselves from
rock to rock, falling against the wall,
clutching a tree or shrub, slipping into
the lake, saving themselves from
drowning apparently only by the ca
price of complacent fortune, which
they were trying to the utmost limit.
One man carried a miner's pick, a
spade and a surveyor's range pole, the
other another spade and two long
stakes which looked like the separate
legs of a tripod. The bareheaded man,
who had thrown his rubber coat down
In the reddish-yellow water, carried a
good-sized oilskin bag. He was the
most hurried of the three. lie ran
some distance in front of the others.
They noticed how carefully lie sought
to protect the bag. Win n he slipped
or seemed about to fall, he always
thrust it frantically away from the
rock with outstretched arm.
What the three men would be it of
course no one knew. It was obvious
that they were in a desperate hurry
and that the thing in the bag must be
carefully carried. Naturally the watch
ers connected the men with the dam
builders. They were dressed as the
men engaged in such labor would be
dressed. The pick, the spades and the
pole and stakes bore but that conclu-,
elon.
"What's in the bag?" asked the
woman.
"He carries it as though it might
rbe gold or diamonds," said Winters.
Rodney shook his head. Suddenly
he divined the reason for the extreme
are with which the "bag was carried.
The men were immediately below the
three watchers now. He could make
out pretty well what was the size and
shape of the objects that bulged the
.waterproof bug.
"I have it," he shouted. "Dynaiite !"
"'What for?"
Rodney shook his head again. The
man iu front was In plain view. Je
was a tall figure, his face was heavily
TOWNSEND
Copyright by Fleming II. Revell Co.
bearded. From the angle at which
they saw him it was impossible to rec
ognize him, nor was he in his frantic
progress assuming the usual attitude
and bearing of a man under ordinary
conditions which sometimes betray
him to those who know him well. Nor
could Helen Ulingworth with her
trembling hands focus the glass, which
she took from Rodney before the strug
gling adventurers had passed ; and yet
there was something in the figure be
low that made her heart beat faster.
She pressed her hand to the wet gar-
He's that i ments over her heart and stared. Sud
I denly Rodney raised his voice and
shouted at the very top of it. Winters
joined in, and even Helen Ulingworth
found herself screaming. The three
men below were not more than five or
six hundred feet away, but evidently
they could not possibly hear in that
tumult of nature. No voices would
carry through any such rain and wind.
They were too intent on their paths
and on what they had to do to look
upward. They rounded the shoulder
of the mesa and disappeared in the
pines at its feet.
The three on the top looked at each
other.
"The dam still holds," said Rodney,
quite unsuspecting what was in the
woman's heart.
Even as lie spoke, Helen iTlingworth
turned away. She ran heavily in her
sodden garments along the broken
mesa top past the house to the upper
edge. There below her were the three
men just emerging from the fringe of
trees. Rounding the end of the mesa,
they had at last struck firmer ground,
lit leu Ulingworth could see them
through the pines on the old trail. The
going was bad enough, but it was noth
ing compared to what they had passed
over and presently they burst out of
the woods and ran along the greasy,
well-rounded hogback that divided the
valley from the' ravine.
The woman had no idea what was
toward, what was their purpose. She
could only stare and stare at the rap
idly moving far-off figure indomitably
in the lead, and the others following
after. There Winters joined her.
"Rodney sent me to look after you;
he feels that he must stay back and
watch the dam for his paper."
"Look," said Helen, pointing far
down. The men halted at the very
narrowest part of the hogback. They
were clustered together. I he bag lay
on the ground behind them. One man
bent over it, evidently opening it.
Another man swung the shovel vicious
ly, the third grabbed the pick. Win
ters had been too far removed from en
gineering even yet to figure out what
was toward. They could only watch
and wonder.
CHAPTER XX.
The Victors.
Meade knew that they were fighting
a losing battle. Every one of the
higher grade men knew it also. The
spillway was entirely inadequate, but
it suddenly flashed into his mind, with
that consciousness of the hopelessness
of the struggle, that perhaps there was
another way to discharge the flood.
The same idea might have come to
any other of the more intelligent of the
men from Vandeventer down if they
had taken a moment for reflection. If
they had not been so frantically, so
frightfully engrossed in their present
puny but gallant efforts to save the
dam. they certainly would have remem
bered. That the possibility came to
Meade rather than to any of the others
was perhaps due to the fact that he
had noted the situation later and had
studied the conditions more recently.
Those solitary rambles of his, those
careful inspections of the terrain of
the valley, had been made long after
the original surveys and the results of
his observations were still fresh in his
mind.
The water was rising so rapidly
since the cloudburst and he saw the
inevitableness of the failure so clearly
that he did not dare to waste time to
look up Vandeventer, tell him his plan,
and get his permission. Every second
was of the utmost value. When the
thought came, he acted instantly. He
was in the position of the commander
of a small force to whom is suddenly
presented the bare possibility of wrest
ing victory from defeat by some splen
didly daring and unforeseen undertak
ing. And he was the man to seize such
a possibility nd make the most of it.
He had endeared himself to some of
the men and the respect in which he
was held by Vandeventer was shared
by the others. When he called two
of the most capable of the workmen,
a big, burly Irishman and a stout little
Italian, to follow him, they did it
without a moment's hesitation.
"The rest of you keep on here," he
shouted as he left the gang. "Murphy
and Funaro, come with me. Keep it
up ; I think I know a way to help," he
yelled back through the rain as he
scrambled off the dam up the rocks to
the spillway. It was not his fault that
they could not hear and could not un
derstand. The water was rushing through the
spillway about knee deep, and the
thtveVnen plunging forward through
BRADY father and son
it had difficulty in keeping their f oot-j
ing on the broken, rocky bottom.
When they reached the other side,
Meade shouted above the storm:
"Murphy, bring your pick and shov
el ; take that iron range-pole, too.
Here, Funaro, you take your shovel
and these."
As he spoke he ran into the office
shack and wrecked a transit tripod,
ruthlessly separating the legs from one
another by main force and pitching
two of them into the little Italian's
outstretched arms.
Without a question, both men com
plied with his directions. In a huge
crevice, almost a small cave, in the
spur of the mesa which overhung the
east end of the clam the explosives
were stored. The dynamite was kept
in oilskin bags, the detonating caps in
waterproof boxes. There were six
teen sticks or cartridges iu each hag.
Each stick was an inch and a half in
diameter and eight inches long. One
bagful should be ample. Indeed, if
that did not do the work, the attempt
would fail.
The men waited while Meade select
ed a bag of dynamite, a box of detona
tors, and a package of fuses. It was a
cardinal rule that dynamite cartridges
and detonating caps should never be
carried by the same person, because
the combination so greatly increased
the risk of premature explosion.
The fulminate of mercury 1 in the
detonators was very volatile, highly ex
plosive and immensely destructive, con
sidering its size. One such cap could
blow off a man's hand, or even his
head, and in its explosion might deto
nate the dynamite. Hence the sepa
ration when being carried.
Meade decided to take that risk. He
knew how perilous Mas the undertak
ing, how liable he was in his hurry to
fall against the rocks, slippery and
half submerged in that pouring rain.
He knew what the consequences of
such a fall would be. He would center
all risks In himself. He thrust the box
of detonators in his pocket, the pack
age of fuses inside ,his flannel shirt,
and carried the dynamite bag in his
hand. He would need his free hand to
protect himself, so all the tools were
carried by the other men.
The little Italian shook his head as
he noted these preparations. He hap
pened to be one of the explosive force,
those whose duty it was to do the
blasting. In his practical way he knew
a great deal about the properties and
possibilities of usefulness of the dyna
mite. Meade's purpose was obvious,
even to Murphy, who was only a la
borer, though where he proposed to
work neither man had any idea at all.
"Dynamita no work in zis weather,"
said Funaro impressively.
'Probably not," answered Meade,
hurrying his preparations, "but it's our
only chance."
"Give me ze caps," urged the Ital
ian gallantly.
"No, I'll take both."
"It ees danger."
"Yes, but come on."
Meade, wasting no more words,
sprang at what was left of the trail,
and the two men gallantly followed
him. The hogback at which he was
aiming was perhaps a little more than
two miles from the darn. On the ordi
nary trail and prepared for the run.
he could have managed it in fifteen
5, mws:
Hie Soul Was Rising and His Heart
Was Beating
minutes; as it was, they made it in
thirty. The extreme possibility of the
life of the dam seemed to Meade not
much greater. He went in the lead,
and by his direction the others kept
some distance behind him.
"If I fall and explode this dynamite,
there's no need of all three of us be
ing blown up," he had said, and it was
no reflection on their courage that they
complied with his direction.
Indeed a stern command was neces
sary to keep the two men back. They
had caught something of the gallant
spirit of the engineer, and the big
Irishman and the little Italian were as
eager as he -"lolped by a fe v hasty
-M -f vi-,.- v.- ' ' iri ""o ..... , Hits iuui ui uib uuuiv
K --$tsJ4 44V their wet faces, evidencing their ex- j slanting and it will do
I' ' lKfft ' "ViVk haustion. From Murphy, who had been : "Will the dam be
rVS&. wfcV .ir ! 4 VA1 the faster, Meade took the two tripod , sor?" asked Mike
VN;CS.$-P.'Aov, .AsK3 iU'ffS- stout ouk staves llbout aa J"t'h pick.
rNOAJfc ' ,JsV.V and a half thick, with sharp metal! "I hope so, but,
WVSV WV A, lisSl points. He jammed them down into
112 'HI JL$
words as they ran, they had both of
them learned what he would be at.
They both realized that they were the
forlorn hope, that if they could not
save the dam nobody and nothing
could. And there was a trace of the
ige-ioag rivalry between the Celt and
the Roman. The scion of the legionary
and the son of the barbarian who had
fought together in the dawn of history
vied with each other then. Again and
again Meade had to order them back.
He was keenly sensible of his danger.
He knew that if he fell. If the dyna
mite struck the ground violently, it
might explode. lie knew that the un
stable fulminate of mercury in the
detonators might go off at any time
perhaps that was the greater danger
but he never checked his pace or hesi
tated in a leap or sought an easy way
for a second. His soul was rising and
his heart was beating as they had
never risen or beaten in his life. And
the hearts of his men beat with his
own.
He knew, of course, if the dam went
out the railroad, the bridge, the town,
the citizens, the women and children,
and everything and everybody would
go. If he could save them, his act
might be. set off against the loss of the
International. Rut whether that were
true or not, whatever the conse
quences to him. he was bound to save
them. The weight of every man, the
weight of every woman, the weight of
every child In the valley, the weight
of all the business enterprises of the
town, the weight of the great viaduct
of steel, the weight of the huge dam
itself, was on his shoulders as he ran.
He carried the burden lightly, as Atlas
might have upborne the world with
laughter. For, despite his determina
tion and haste, he had in his heart the
great joy that comes when men at
tempt grandly and dare greatly for
their fellow-men. If he could only Vy
and by see his hopes justified by suc
cess, his happiness would be complete.
And there were thoughts personal as
well as general. If he died, whether
successful or not, men would tell about
his endeavor. She would hear. It
came to him afterward, when he
learned how she had looked down upon
him as he ran, that he had somehow
felt her presence, not a presence im
pelling him to look up, but a presence
driving him on. He lost his hat, he tore
off his long coat and threw it aside
as he plunged on with his precious bag
in his hand. He did not dare to look
at his watch, he did not stop for any
thing, but it seemed that he must have
spent hours in that mad scramble over
the water-covered rocks. He heaved a
deep breath of relief when he rounded
the mesa ana struck the trail. lsat as
was the going, it was nothing to what
they had passed over.
Presently he broke out into the open
slope and there before him was the
rounded curve of the hogback, to gain
which he had risked so much. Were
they in time? Yes, the water in the
lake was not flowing, It was only ris
ing. Evidently the dam still held. He
ran along it tin he reached the nar
rowest part of it, twenty feet wide
between water-covered valley and
sharply descending ravine. The short
est separation between Picket Wire
and the Kicking Horse! The water in
the lake was within three feet of the
crest. The rain was coming down
steadily. He could realize by the wa
ter level where he stood that it must
be lapping the top of the dam now,
or a little above it. He had five min
utes ten at most. He was still in
time. The thoughts came to him as he
ran. And as he saw the place again
he made his Instant plan
He laid the dynamite down just as
Murphy and Funaro reached him and
stood panting, their heavy breathing.
the ground about five feet from the
edge of the Kicking Horse ravine and
about fifteen feet apart.
"Holes, there," he shouted, "deep
enough for five cartridges."
Funaro nodded. He knew exactly
what to do. Murphy had often seen
the explosive gang at work. He was
quick-witted and he had only to follow
the Italian's actions. The work was
simple. Seizing their spades, the two
men cut Into the sod, using the pick
to dislodge small bowlders and break
up the earth. The soil was light and
porous, and it had been well soaked
by the rain. After they had made an
excavation about two feet deep, they
laid aside their shovels, and with the
iron range pole as a starter and the
bigger tripod stakes to follow, they
made two deep holes in the ground,
forcing the pole and then the stake
into the earth, which the continuing
rain tended to soften more and more.
They made these holes about four feet
deep below the excavation, driving In
and twisting and churning the stakes
by main strength.
They could by no means have accom
plished this save for the softening as
sistance of the rain and the furious
energy th-iy applied. They had 'been
working dince four in the morning at
the dui, they had made that difficult
run at headlong speed, yet they labored
like men possessed. They even wasted
breath to call challengiugly and pro
vokingly and to set forth their progress
each to the other. In almost less time
than it takes to tell It, they had com
pleted the holes and so informed the
engineer triumphantly.
Meade, as usual, had reserved to
himself the more dangerous, if less ar
duous task. Covering himself with
big Murphy's discarded slicker, which
fell over him like a shelter tent as he
knelt down, he opened the box of
detonators, selected one, and attached
the fuse In position carefully. Then
he unfolded the paper about one of the
cartridges and placed the detonator,
wrapping the paper around it there
after. He prepared two cartridges
this way with the greatest care.
The men rapidly but carefully cut
slits in the covering of the cartridges,
and lowered four cartridges down each
hole, forcing them gently Into place
with the butt ends of the tripod stakes
and compressing them so that they
filled the holes completely. Then
Meade placed his two prepared sticks
with the detonators on top of the other
four. He cut the fuse to the proper
length in each case, and. keeping it
'5
He Was as One Dead.
carefully covered with the raincoat, he
held it while the others filled in the
holes and the excavations and care
fully tamped down the earth. All that
remained was the lighting of the fuse.
And then? Would the dynamite go
off? With fuses it was uncertain in its
action at best, and although these
fuses were supposed to be so prepared
as to be independent of weather con
ditions, more often than not rain
spoiled a blast. If this blast failed it
was good-by dam good-by everything.
Meade drew out from the pocket of
his flannel shirt a box of matches. He
had to light the farther cartridge fuse,
then run fifteen feet and light the
nearer one, and then make his escape,
lie had made the nearer fuse a little
shorter so as to secure a simultaneous
explosion if possible.
Tony Funaro now Interposed gal
lantly. "Giva me da light," he demanded, ex
tending his hand.
"G'wan wid ye," shouted the big
Irishman eagerly; "lemme do it, sor."
"Stand back, both of you," cried
Meade, succeeding after some trouble
in striking a nmtch.
He had cut off a shorter length of
fuse for a torch, the better to carry the
fire from one blast to another. As it
sputtered into flame, he touched the
first fuse, then the second, and turned
and ran for his life after Murphy and
Funaro. They had just got a safe dis
tance away when with a muffled roar
the two blasts went off nearly together.
When they ran back they saw that
two-thirds of the hillock on that side
of the ravine had gone. A wall of
earth through which water was already
trickling rose between the great gap
they had blown out and the lake, the
upper level of which was much higher
than the bottom of the great crater
they hud opened.
"Hurrah," yelled Meade, the others
joining in his triumphant shout. "Now,
another hole right there," he pointed to
, "Drive it in
the job."
after holdin' yit,
Murphy, seizing his
for God's sake,
hurry.
With two men working, the last hole
was completed before Meade was
ready. Funaro, indeed, came to his
assistance in preparing the cartridge.
Presently all was completed. Reject
ing the pleas or Dptn men, jueaae
truck the match, and this time, since
there was but one blast to be fired, he
touched it directly to the fuse and
waited a second to see that it had
caught and ran as before.
At a safe distance they drew back
and waited. Nothing happened. A few
seconds dragged on. They saw no sign
of life in the fuse, no light. In spite
of the care they had taken, it had got
wet. It would not work. The precious
moments were flying. They stared
agonizingly at the fuse through the
rain.
"I'll have to take a look at it," said
Meade desperately.
Funaro and Murphy caught him by
the arms. They all knew the tremen
dous risk in a nearer approach. The
fuse might be alight still. At any sec
ond the flume might flash to the deto
nator and then Yet Meade had to
go. That charge had to be exploded if
he detonated It by hand, he thought
desperately, and he had not come so
far and worked so hard to fail now.
2&
1 l".
1 VV KiCi'MA.
"Dont go," cried Murphy.
"It ees danger," shouted Funaro.
Rut Meade shook them off and bade
them keep back. What was his dan
ger compared to the issue invohod?
That last charge had to be exploded.
He stepped quickly toward It, and as
he did so he threw his eyes up toward
the gray, rain-filled heaven in one last
appeal.
Did he hear the blind roar, did he
see the upbursting masses of sodden
earth, was he conscious of the fact
that the whole side of the hillock had
been blown away, that the last explo
sion had completed the shattering work
of the first that they had succeeded?
Did he mark the whirling water, driv
en backward at first by the violence of
the explosion, returning and rolling in
vast mass through the great opening,
did he see it plunging down the slope,
through the trees aud bushes, and
pour thunderously Into the bed of the
ravine? Did he see the tremendous
rush of the water from the great lake
that man had created tear earth from
earth, and ever widen and deepen the
opening as it crashed in a foaming, ter
rible,' red cataract through the outlet,
striking down great trees, roaring,
boiling wildly to the bottom of the
gorge fivr below?
No, he saw nothing. Rroken, beaten
down by a huge bowlder that had been
thrown upward by the explosion and
had struck him on the breast, and
lying battered under a rain of smaller
stones and earth, he was as one dead.
"By heavens !" cried Winters in great
excitement on the crest of the hill,
"he's done it. He's saved the dam;
that's a man!"
"Don't you know him?" screamed
Helen Ulingworth in his ear.
"No."
"Meade !"
Winters caught her by the arm.
"He's dead," she cried high and
shrill, "but he saved the dam and the
bridge and the town. He's made atone
ment." "Yes, yes; don't faint," cried Win.
ters.
"Faint! I'm going to him."
"How?"
"The nearest way," screamed the
woman, letting herself down over the
cliff wall to the broken rocks, by which
only the hardy could reach the lower
level.
What of the dam below in the val
ley? "Hold It. men. hold it: for God's
: sake, hold it," shouted Vandeventer,
: rising from his crouching position
against the palisade to resume It
instantly he had spoken. "Keep It
up. If it goes down, let s go down witn
it. Hang on hang on ! We'll hold it.
We aren't beat yet."
Broken words, oaths, protestations,
curses, cheers, expletives in strange
languages from the plyglot mob of
men burst forth. Even cowards had
been turned Into heroes because they
had fought by the side of men. Here
and there a man not weaker phys
ically, perhaps, but less resolute, less
spiritually consecrated, less divinely
obsessed, dropped out of the rank that
pitted itself in furious, futile, but sub
lime fury against the wavering wall.
Some of them fell backward and lay
still. Some had fainted and some of
them were half dead. A few here and
there sank down on the trampled, mud
dy embankment and buried their heads
in their hands, sobbing hysterically.
Rut most still blind, mad, sublime,
held on. And the palisade did not fall.
It did not bend back any further.
The throb that told of the tremen
dous pressure of the waves, the quiver
that experience could feel the prelude
to failure, began to die away, to stop.
What did it mean? The thunder grew
still, the rain diminished, it ceased, the
clouds broke. Some great hand, as of
God, swiftly tore the black vault of
the heavens apart. Faint light began
to glow over the sodden land. Through
the rift they saw dimly one great peak
of mighty range. What had happened?
"nere," said Vandeventer.
How white he looked, how haggard,
streaks of gray In his black hair that
had not been there before, but his eyes
were blazing. He was still the Indom
itable chief of the Spartan band. The
nearest men gave him a hand. He
clambered up to his former vantage
point on top of the highest log of the
stockade and stared down. The rise
of the water had stopped ! He could
not believe it, yet it was true. The
rain had ceased again, but by every
natural law the drainage from the hills
would continue for some time in full
volume. Yes, by all rights the dam
was doomed. The water still trickled
through the palisades in many small
streams. That had been a gallant ef
fort they had made, even If a vain one.
For ten minutes he stood silent, ex
hausted. Then he saw. The water
j Wlis not rising. No, it was falling;
only a trifle, but enough. Presently it
had stopped filtering through the re
vetment. He looked back. Not a drop
ran on the other side of the palisade.
Vandeventer knew that the water must
be discharging somewhere. The lake
must have broken through somewhere.
He only needed that hint to recall the
hogback, and then Meade. He saw it
all now.
"We've won, the dam's saved," he
cried greatly to the mei who stood
back of the palisade staring at him.
"Roberts has blown up the hogback.
The water's falling. See for your
selves." Every man sprang up the palisade.
Someone laughed and then someone
raised a cheer, and those mud-covered,
sodden, worn-out men, who had been
about to die, saluted in heroic acclaim
him who had led them to victory and
by implication him who had made that
triumph possible.
. (TO BE CONTINUED.) . ;