DAYS OF TERROR
Larry went back to the hotel to report to Mr. Newton. He did not find
him there, and so walked around in the corridor. The men were gathered
in groups, talking of nothing but the storm and the danger.
“Worst I ever see in fifty years,” said one old man. “I remember the
year Deacon Stout’s old gray mare died the waters riz so high they
floated my barn, by gosh, but that wa’n’t nothin’ to this.”
“She’s goin’ t’ rage an’ tear things apart,” said his neighbor.
Other men were saying much the same thing. In one corner Larry saw a
woman crying, while others were trying to comfort her.
“I can’t help it,” said the weeping one. “The waters washed away our
house and we’ve lost everything we had in the world.”
“Never mind, it’s lucky you and the children were saved,” spoke some of
those about her.
“When did the house wash away?” asked Larry, thinking this might be
some news for Mr. Newton to put in his story.
“A little while ago,” replied one of the women. “It was down quite
close to the river, and these people wouldn’t move out when their
neighbors did. They came near being drowned when the waters rose
suddenly. Men had to rescue them in boats.”
Larry asked several more questions, getting the name of the rescued
ones, and the location of the house. He wrote the incident up as well
as he could on some paper he procured from the hotel clerk.
“What’s this?” asked Mr. Newton, when he came in half an hour later,
and Larry handed him the sheets.
“Just a little something I picked up around the hotel, and thought
might go in the story,” replied the boy.
“Good for you!” exclaimed the reporter. “You’re the kind of a helper to
have. Did you arrange about the telegraph?”
Larry repeated what the operator had said, and then Mr. Newton started
to write his story. He used what Larry had given him, fixing it up
a bit, and soon had quite a batch of stuff ready to be telegraphed.
Larry took it over to the office, and, while he was gone, Mr. Newton
continued to write. By the time Larry returned the reporter had another
batch ready.
“There,” he said as he rubbed his aching fingers, “I guess that will be
enough for to-day unless something breaks loose. Now, after you come
back from the office, we’ll have dinner.”
During the afternoon Mr. Newton and Larry walked about the town. The
reporter wanted to familiarize himself with the location of various
buildings so if the place was swept away he would be able to write
intelligently about it.
Toward evening they paid another visit to the dam. They found a bigger
crowd than ever at it, and there was a group of men with lanterns
walking about.
“What’s going on?” asked Mr. Newton of a man who stood near.
“Going to try dynamite,” said the man.
“Not to blow up the dam?”
“Oh, my, no! Going to try and blow a hole in the side of the hill quite
a ways up the reservoir to see if they can let some of the water out
and relieve the pressure on the dam.”
“When will they do that?”
“First thing in the morning.”
“That will be more news for us, Larry,” spoke Mr. Newton.
“Are you newspaper men?” inquired the man.
“Yes, from the New York _Leader_,” replied the reporter and Larry was
proud to be in the same class with Mr. Newton, though he knew he had
not gotten there yet.
“Well, you’ll have plenty of news soon,” the man continued.
“How so?”
“Why, the water’s risen six inches this afternoon. It’s only a foot and
a half from the top of the dam now. Then we just got word that a small
dam up at a place called Meadeville is liable to burst any minute. It
won’t do much damage up there, but the water feeds into this reservoir
and if it gets here, which it’s liable to do to-morrow, why, this whole
thing will go.”
“I wonder if our hotel’s in any danger?” asked the reporter.
“No,” replied the man. “That’s on high ground, but the part of the town
to the west of it is in a very dangerous position, if the dam gives
way.”
“Well, it’s a comfort to know you have a safe place to sleep, at any
rate,” Mr. Newton remarked, “but I’m sorry for the others.”
Larry and his friend spent some more time looking around, and then
decided to go back to the hotel. The whole town was full of excitement.
Few persons dared go to bed, for fear the calamity would overtake them.
They preferred to sit up and wait for it. A large force of men were
stationed at the dam to give warning in all directions at the first
sign of a break of any kind.
Larry managed to get a few winks of sleep, but he was too anxious about
the flood, and also worried about his sister, to rest well. As for Mr.
Newton, nothing seemed to worry him, and he slept as well as though at
home.
The rain let up a bit toward morning, but the heavy clouds and the
unchanged wind showed that the storm was not over. The first thing
after breakfast and getting their mail, including a letter with fair
news for Larry, Mr. Newton went out to the dam. The waters had risen
slightly, and some engineers who had been summoned said that the
pressure on the stone wall was now enormous, and must, unless the flood
went down, burst it.
“We’ll go and take a look at the place where they’re going to
dynamite,” said Mr. Newton.
They found a corps of men busy. Red flags placed here and there warned
the people to keep back from the danger zone. The place where the
explosive was going to be set off was near a deep gully, and the men
hoped to drive the waters into it and away from the town and dam.
“How soon are they going to set it off?” Mr. Newton asked of a man who
had one of the red flags.
“In about an hour,” was the reply.
“Then we’ll stay and watch it,” said Mr. Newton to Larry. “I can send
an account of it to the paper. It will make good reading.”
The preparations went busily on. It began to rain again, but the men
working at the dynamite explosion did not seem to mind it. They were
too interested in the result of the experiment which might mean so much
to all of them.
At last those bearing the red flags, at a signal from someone in
charge, warned the onlookers farther back.
“I guess it’s going off now!” said Mr. Newton. “We’d better get away a
bit.”
They retreated several hundred feet. While they were wondering whether
they were far enough off there came a dull rumble and roar. The ground
seemed to tremble and then, as they looked, they saw a mass of earth
and rocks rise high in the air.
“There she goes!” exclaimed Larry.
“Now let’s see if it does any good,” said Mr. Newton.
They looked to see if the big lake of water would become less as a new
outlet was provided, but it did not. Either the dynamite had not been
placed right, or the men had calculated too much on its power. At any
rate, though a big hole was blown in the hill, near the ravine, there
was still a large piece of earth between the gully and the imprisoned
water. The dynamite had failed to do its work.
“Come on,” said Mr. Newton to Larry. “We’ll get some stuff off to the
paper and then we can come back.”
Through the mud and rain they splashed to the hotel. There the reporter
wrote up his story and sent Larry to the telegraph office with it,
about a mile and a half away.
“I tell you what it is,” said Mr. Newton on Larry’s return, “we’ll have
to get up a new scheme. It takes too long to go from the hotel to the
telegraph office. I wonder how we can save time.”
“I might run faster,” suggested Larry.
“No, you run fast enough now. I’m not finding fault with you.”
“I might hire a bicycle.”
“How do you mean?”
“Why, I mean I could get a wheel here, and take the copy in on that.
I could also get out to the dam, and you could follow. Then you could
write the stuff there and I could rush it to the telegraph office right
from the scene.”
“Good idea!” exclaimed Mr. Newton. “We’ll do it. But can you ride a
bicycle in this weather?”
“I guess so,” said Larry. “I’m pretty good on one. Besides the roads
are hard, and the rain hasn’t hurt them much.”
That afternoon Larry made arrangements to hire a wheel, which he
brought around to the hotel. He found that, though it was a trifle
awkward to ride it with a rubber coat and big boots on, he could
manage, but he did not make as fast time as he would have done
otherwise.
“But it’s better than walking,” said Larry.
That day, and the one which followed, were anxious ones. The water rose
steadily, but so slowly that it could scarcely be noticed, on account
of being spread over such a large surface. The engineers reported that
the strain on the dam was increasing.
Many more people whose houses were nearest to the rising waters began
moving out. Appeals for help were sent to nearby towns, and several
boats were brought over to be used in case of emergency. Several small
gasolene boats also came, and one man offered to bring his steam launch
over if the flood continued.
In the meanwhile the people were filled with anxiety. They could do no
work, and stood around waiting for what they feared would happen.
Mr. Newton sent off a good account to his paper. That evening he went
down to the railroad station. On the last train in came several young
men, and a number of boys with them.
“I thought they’d be soon here,” said Mr. Newton to Larry.
“Who are they?”
“Reporters from other New York papers. Now we’ll have to hustle for
beats.”