UNDER WATER
The town was now a scene of wild confusion. The people were nearly out
of their senses with fear, for they were alarmed lest the waters reach
even the high places. Cooler heads did their best to quiet the excited
ones, but it was hard work.
Boats were plying everywhere, taking people from the second stories
of their houses in some cases, and saving some from possible death by
drowning. The waters, which were now turned into a raging torrent, were
filled with débris brought down from up country.
Sometimes whole houses or barns would be borne along, and when they
struck a building in Stoneville there was a crash that could be heard
for some distance and the stationary residence would be knocked from
its foundation and carried away.
The houses of those whom the flood had not reached were thrown open
to the unfortunates. The hotel took in all it could hold, but the
proprietor was obliged to put everyone on short rations, for food was
getting scarce, and the railroad was under water, so no more could be
brought in that way.
There was plenty of material for newspaper copy now. The reporters, Mr.
Newton included, went out on a tour of investigation, making notes of
what they saw. The men who worked on morning papers were in a quandary
how to get their news off until someone said there was a telegraph
office in the next town, about five miles away over the hills.
Several of them clubbed together, hired a horse and carriage, and drove
over with their copy.
“I wonder if I’ll have to do that in the morning,” Mr. Newton said to
Larry.
“I think I have a better plan,” said the boy.
“What is it?”
Then Larry told of how the Stoneville operator was going to open a
temporary office on the hill in a tent.
“If he does that, in time for us, it will be just the thing,” said Mr.
Newton. “Keep quiet concerning it. Don’t say anything about it to the
other fellows.”
“Why not?”
“Because we don’t want them to know it. If they find it out they’ll go
there and file stuff, and ours may be delayed. You must learn, in the
newspaper business, to know everything and tell nothing, especially to
the fellow on the other paper.”
“I’ll go over the first thing in the morning and find out if he’s
opened his place,” said Larry.
That night was one of terror. Fortunately there was enough warning
about the bursting of the dam so that most of the people were out
of the way in time, and none was killed. But the property loss was
tremendous. About midnight the waters ceased to rise, but they still
inundated most of the town, and would for some time, since the country
for quite a distance above was covered with the flood.
Early the next morning Larry got up, dressed, and went downstairs. He
was surprised to find the corridor of the hotel partly filled with
water.
“What’s the matter?” he asked the clerk.
“Oh, they tried to drown us out last night,” was the reply.
“Has the flood reached here?” asked the boy.
“Take a look out front and you’ll think so,” the man went on.
Larry looked from the windows. He saw that the street was inundated,
the water being about four feet deep.
“How am I going to get out?” he asked in dismay.
“Swim,” said the clerk with a laugh, in spite of the gravity of the
situation. “It’s not very cold. Or you might wait for the flood to go
down.”
“I haven’t time for that,” said Larry, “and I don’t believe I could
swim as far as I intend to go.”
“There are some fellows outside with boats, and they may take you where
you want to go,” the clerk said.
“That’s a good idea,” said the boy. “I’ll try it.”
He went out on the front steps, through the corridor, which contained
about an inch of water. As he reached the front door a rowboat,
propelled by a big man, shot up.
“Boat?” asked the man, in the manner of one inquiring whether one would
have a cab. “Take you anywhere for half a dollar.”
Larry mentioned where he wanted to be landed, and got in the boat. The
oarsman said he would take him as near the place on the hill as he
could go.
“You’ll have to walk the rest of the way,” the improvised ferryman said.
“I’m willing,” replied the boy.
He found that the operator had set up a small tent, and was busy over
his instruments, which he had attached to the telegraph line that
passed over the brow of the hill.
“How soon can you take messages?” asked Larry.
“Oh, it’s you, eh?” asked the operator. “You were my last customer in
the old place, and you’re the first one in the new.”
“Will you soon be ready?” asked Larry.
“In about an hour,” was the reply.
The man busied himself over his instruments, connecting them to
batteries he had procured and then adjusting them. Next he climbed a
telegraph pole and “cut in” as it is called on the main line, fastening
the wire from his machines to the regular line. Larry watched him with
interest.
“I’ll soon be ready for you,” said the man.
“Then I’ll go back and get some copy,” said Larry.
He went down to the boat which was waiting for him, and in a little
while found himself back at the hotel. By this time nearly all the
guests were up and the women, especially, were much frightened when
they saw that the place was in the middle of a miniature lake, and that
there was water in the corridor.
“Don’t be alarmed,” the clerk was saying. “The water is not rising,
and, though it will probably stay here for some time, there is no
danger. We’ll make you as comfortable as we can, but you can’t expect
many comforts.”
“Have the fires gone out?” asked one man. “My room is cold.”
“The water has put the fire out in the furnace down in the cellar,” was
the reply, “but we’ve sent for oil stoves, and we’ll be able to give
you a little heat.”
The clerk’s assurances did much to quiet the excited throng, and
then breakfast was announced, though it was not a very liberal meal.
However, there was plenty of good hot coffee and bread and butter.
“Where have you been?” asked Mr. Newton of Larry.
“Looking for a telegraph office,” replied the boy in a low tone, for
there were other newspaper men near by.
“Did you find one?”
“I did,” and then Larry whispered that the man would take messages
soon. “Get some stuff ready,” he went on, “and I’ll take it to him
before the other fellows locate him.”
“Good idea,” said Mr. Newton. “I’ll have a bunch of copy ready in about
an hour.”
He hurried through the meal and went over to a table, where he began
writing at a rapid rate.
“How you going to get your stuff off?” asked some of the other
reporters.
“That’s a secret,” replied Mr. Newton good-naturedly as he went on
describing in vigorous language the scenes in the flooded district, for
much more of the town was under water than had been expected would be
covered.
All about were men plying here and there in boats, saving household
goods, carrying people hither and yon, and taking provisions from the
centers where food had been collected to the different places where the
people were congregated. There were one or two naphtha launches, and
any number of rowboats.
Altogether it made a lively and unusual story. Fortunately there was
no loss of life, though there were many narrow escapes. Many head of
stock, and hundreds of horses and pigs in the country section had been
drowned.
The breaking of the dam Mr. Newton described more fully than in his
first hasty dispatch, and putting in many exciting incidents he had a
story that he felt sure would be read with interest when it was printed
in the _Leader_.
“Now to get it on the wire ahead of the other fellows,” he remarked to
himself, as he folded up the copy and gave it to Larry.
“Now don’t let any of the others find out where you are going,”
cautioned Mr. Newton to the boy. “Try and fool them. Have the man row
you in a different direction, and then circle about and get to the
telegraph tent. Do you think you can do it?”
“I guess so,” replied Larry. “I don’t believe the other reporters know
where the tent is. You can’t see it from the hotel, and they haven’t
gone out very far.”
“All right,” replied Mr. Newton. “Come back as soon as you can. Here is
some money to pay the boatman with.”
Larry had donned his rubber boots, but, as it was not raining, he had
no need to hoist his umbrella. It seemed at last that the storm had
ceased, though the waters had not yet begun to recede.
Larry walked through the damp corridor, trying not to seem in a hurry
or as if he was going anywhere. He thought he had succeeded, but, just
as he was about to get into the same boat he had hired before, he saw
Peter Manton come hurrying out. Peter had a bundle of copy in his hand,
and was, evidently, going to look for a telegraph office. He glared at
Larry.
“Here’s where we beat you,” sneered Peter.
Larry wondered whether Peter had discovered where the telegraph office
was. If he knew, Larry thought there would be no use in trying to fool
him by taking a round-about course. If he did not, then there was a
chance of Larry reaching it first and getting Mr. Newton’s copy on the
wire.
“Row me to the telegraph office,” was the order Larry heard Peter give
to a boatman he had engaged.
“I don’t know where there is one,” the man said.
“Well, row about until you find one,” said Peter, with as much airs as
though he was a reporter instead of a copy boy. “When you find it I’ll
send this stuff.”
The man started off, rowing at random. Larry waited a while, and then,
telling his boatman to send the craft in the opposite direction from
that in which the telegraph tent was, he too started away.
“We mustn’t let them find out where we’re going,” said Larry. “I must
get to the office first.”