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The proprietor of the store, who was also their host, directed them to a man he thought might have one. The latter, a rancher in a small way, was rather dubious as to the boat’s being in a condition to navigate. “It’s down by the river,” he said. “Been down there pretty nigh a year, too, ef somebody hain’t swiped it. Take ye down to look at it in the mornin’. Ef you’re aimin’ to commit suicide tryin’ to get through the Labyrinth, it ought to be jest the thing for you. ’Twas built by a party what aimed to try the stunt but got cold feet before they tackled it. They give it to me, so ef you’re willin’ to pay about ten dollars, you’re welcome to it.”, 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., “Can’t get him—gone to Las Cruces. Yes, hello, Mixer? The Chief? Gone? Yes, yes! Where? North end spillway! Right! ’Bye.” She pulled out the plug and said to Jerry, “Started for spillway ten minutes ago. No phone there yet. Take fifteen minutes get messenger there—can you wait?”.