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And waves her sceptre o'er the world below. This time a crash, a splintering of the wood was the result. Once more he dived into it and the next moment he was in the gray air of the early dawn. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough water,” returned Bob. “Are you coming?”.

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“No, sir, I—I never thought of—” Inside, Bob had been listening with wide open ears and his mind pictured the scene Jerry had left to find Mr. Whitney and filled out the holes the winded boy had left in his description. He knew the auxiliary spillway and the harm it could do if it should fail to carry its burden. It was a temporary affair of wood to be used only until a system of drains could be built to take care of the excess water that collected below the coffer dam. His mind’s eye saw Rutherford and Jerry at the dangerous place: Rutherford, young and inexperienced, doing what he could to avert disaster, but rattled, probably badly so. He wanted Mr. Whitney or somebody with practical knowledge and he had sent Jerry off to bring help. All Bob could do was to hope that the wall would hold. Young men oft find, on industry, During the meal the conversation was without any special interest, but afterwards, when Mr. Holman had retired for his siesta, Link O’Day joined the boys on the porch. The talk drifted from cattle to farming and from farming to forestry. On this topic the man spoke not only with knowledge but with enthusiasm..