DYNAMITING THE DAM
The reporters got out their pencils and paper and began to interview
the man. They wanted to know who was going to set off the dynamite, how
many pounds he would use, where he got it, how he was going to use it,
how he would lower it, and what would happen when he had it in place.
“If you want to know, go ask him,” the man exclaimed at length. “I’m
not going to stay around here. It’s bad enough if the dam breaks, let
alone the dynamite going up!”
Then he started off on a run, while the reporters, with the exception
of Mr. Newton, stood with pencils poised.
But it seemed that something was going on in the crowd down at the
western end of the dam. There were men running to and fro, and
preparations seemed to be under way for some undertaking.
As the reporters and others watched they saw a man run out on the broad
coping on top of the dam. In his hands he carried a package which they
guessed to be dynamite. He seemed to have no fear of the deep waters on
one side of him or the big gully on the other, to which he might fall
and be dashed to death on the rocks.
With a long rope, around which was a fuse, he lowered the explosive to
the bottom of the big wall of masonry. The idea was to blow a hole in
the rocks under it, and not to injure the dam itself, but to make a
place where the water could escape, in addition to the regular exits.
It was a task of peril and few would have liked to undertake it.
The crowd almost in breathless silence watched the man lower the
powerful explosive to the bottom of the wall inch by inch. He seemed
like a fly out there on the narrow coping of the dam, and likely to be
swept to his death any minute.
Mr. Newton, who had learned the brave man’s name from a bystander,
was busy writing a story about him which he intended to send to the
paper. He was on a little hill where he could have a good view of the
operation and yet be out of danger.
Suddenly the man raised his hand. It was a signal that the dynamite
was in place and that he was about to touch off the fuse. Hundreds ran
back, for, though they were in no danger, they imagined they were.
The man was seen to stoop over and strike a match. A little puff of
smoke arose. The crowd watched to see him run back and regain solid
ground. But, as it happened, the first match went out. He had to light
another. This time he managed to kindle the fuse. A little puff of
smoke arose on the damp air. The rain came down harder.
“It may put the fuse out,” said Mr. Newton.
The man was bending over, watching it. He seemed to be fanning the fuse
to a blaze. Then, all at once, he started on a run toward shore.
“I guess he’s lighted it,” observed Mr. Newton, looking at his watch.
There were several anxious minutes of waiting. A thin wreath of smoke
arose from the fuse. The other reporters were scribbling away.
Suddenly a dull boom sounded. A cloud of rocks and dirt arose from the
bottom of the dam. The waters in the reservoir seemed tremendously
agitated.
“There’s a hole in the dam!” cried several.
“No, there isn’t!” said Mr. Newton to Larry. “Here! Take this copy.
It’s another failure! I’ve wired ’em to hold back for an extra. The dam
is liable to go any second now. The explosion only weakened it along
the whole length. Hurry back, Larry.”
He gave the boy a bundle of copy and Larry, jumping on his wheel,
pedaled off as fast as he could. Several of the other reporters, who
had not thought to provide messengers, started for the telegraph office
on the run.
“You’re a foxy one, Newton,” they said. “But you wait! We’ll beat you
yet.”
“You’re welcome to try,” was Mr. Newton’s answer.
Larry was making good time, in spite of the rain-soaked roads. He
reached the telegraph office some minutes in advance of the other
reporters, and, as the rule is in regard to press dispatches, the first
to come is the first to be served, Mr. Newton’s stuff went over the
wire ahead of the other dispatches.
“I can’t promise to send much more,” said the operator, as several of
the reporters came into the office. “Just got word that the waters just
above here are worse than ever. Guess I’ll have to vacate here soon.”
“Where will you go?” asked Larry.
“I’ll take some of the instruments and set up a temporary office on
the high hill back of the town,” was the answer. “The water can’t get
there, and if you’ll get a boat you may be able to bring me your copy.”
“I’ll get a boat,” said Larry, with a laugh. “But perhaps it will not
be as bad as you think.”
“It will be worse,” replied the operator, clicking away at his key.
Larry started back to where Mr. Newton was. On the way he met Peter
Manton, his old rival, bringing some copy from the reporter for whom he
was working.
“You think you’re smart with your wheel,” said Peter. “But you can’t
use it much longer. The dam is breaking and you will have to swim.”
At this news, that the dam was about to give way, Larry put on extra
speed. He wanted to be back in time to get some more copy from Mr.
Newton, who, he knew, would want to send word for the extra.
As he sped along, and hard enough going it was, he heard a dull boom
over toward the dam. This was followed by excited shouts. Then came a
subdued roar.
“The dam has gone!” Larry exclaimed.
An instant later he saw a number of people running toward him, and he
came to a halt.
“I guess I can’t get down there,” thought the boy. “I wonder where Mr.
Newton is?”
At that moment he saw the reporter coming toward him on the run.
“Go back! Go back!” cried Mr. Newton. “The waters are rising fast!”
“Did the dam break?” asked Larry, wanting to make sure.
“Of course. A big hole right in the middle. Fortunately a part of it
held, or the flood would be so sudden that we would have had trouble in
getting away. But come on.”
“Where are we going?” asked Larry.
“Back to the hotel,” replied Mr. Newton. “We’ll be safe there. I want
to get a line off to the paper.”
“You’ll have to hurry,” said the boy. “The telegraph operator said if
the dam broke he’d have to leave.”
“Wait, and I’ll scribble a line now,” said the reporter. He hastily
wrote something on a piece of paper, addressed it to the _Leader_, and
gave it to Larry.
“Take it on a jump now, Larry, my boy!” he cried, and Larry rushed off
on his wheel. “I’ll meet you at the hotel,” called Mr. Newton after him.
Larry reached the telegraph office just as the operator was leaving it.
“Wait a minute!” called the boy. “I have some copy for you.”
“Can’t wait!” exclaimed the telegraph man. “The water’s rising and I’m
going to get out while there’s time.”
“This will only take you a second,” said Larry. “It’s got to get to the
_Leader_. It tells about the dam breaking. They’re going to get out an
extra!”
“Well, I wouldn’t do it for anyone else,” said the operator, “but
you’re a plucky boy to come here with the copy when everyone else is
thinking of getting away, so I’ll send the dispatch for you. After this
you may find me in a temporary office in a tent up on the hill.”
“I’m much obliged to you,” said Larry, handing over the copy. He waited
until he saw the operator send it off, and then the man, taking some of
his instruments with him, left the office.
As he did so a small stream of water began to run down the middle of
the street.
“Flood’s coming!” exclaimed the telegrapher. “You were just in time!”
Then he began to run, and Larry, abandoning his wheel, did likewise,
for he knew because of the formation of the ground that there might be
deep water there soon.
The rain had stopped once more, and this time it seemed as if it might
let up for some time, as the clouds grew lighter. But that was too late
to prevent the damage by the rising waters, which continued to increase
in depth. Fortunately most of the people in that section of the town
had been given plenty of warning and had left their homes, taking all
their most valued possessions with them.
However, there were some who lingered too late, and they were now
fleeing with only a few necessaries. They made for the other side of
the place, where the high ground around the hotel offered a chance for
safety.
Larry and the operator hurried along, the former aiming to reach the
hotel, and the telegrapher to make arrangements to set up a temporary
office. At the hotel Larry found Mr. Newton, surrounded by a number of
newspaper men, waiting for him.
“Did you make it?” asked Mr. Newton.
“Just in time. It was the last message,” said the boy.
“What’s that, Newton?” asked some of his acquaintances.
“I just sent a wire about the dam bursting,” was the answer.
“You don’t mean you’ve got another beat on us?”
“Well, I guess Larry did the biggest part of it,” replied Mr. Newton.
“Well, you two are a great team,” said some of the other reporters,
disgusted at being beaten again.