The Hallowell Partnership

"Listen, Ned. Have you finished the upper laterals? Are they safe, no matter how high the water may rise?"

"N-no. They are excavated, but the bank is nothing but heaped mud, you know. Still, it would stand anything short of a flood."

"What about the lower laterals?"

"Same state of affairs there. Only that the two lowest ditches aren't cut at all. Why?"

Sally Lou swung round in the desk chair and faced her husband. Her eyes were very dark and anxious now.

"One more question, Ned. Could the work stand a three-foot rise?"

Ned stared.

"A three-foot rise? No, it could not. A three-foot rise would stop our levee-building. A rise of four feet or more would put us out of the game. We'd be washed out, smashed, ruined. But why do you ask such questions? What makes you imagine – "

"I'm not imagining, Ned. I had a telephone call not five minutes ago from the district inspector. Yes, I know you think he's always shouting 'Wolf!' but this time he may be right. He says that he has just come down from Chicago on the Central, and that the whole mid-section of the State is fairly submerged by these endless rains. Worse, the storm warnings are up for further rains. And he believes that there will be a rise of three feet within two days. That is, unless the rains stop."

Ned started to his feet.

"A rise of three feet! What is the man talking about? Don't you believe one word, Sally Lou. That inspector is a regular hoot-owl. He'd rather gloom and forebode than breathe. But maybe I'd better go and tell Hallowell. Perhaps we can ginger up our excavation. Yet the men and the machines are working up to their limit."

He shuffled into his wet oilskins once more.

"Where is Roderick, Ned?"

"He just came in off his watch. He's sound asleep in the hammock over at his shack. Marian is over there too. She made Mr. Gates bring her down at five this morning, and she has worked like a Turk every minute. She spent the morning with Hallowell, up the laterals. She has learned to run his launch better that he can, so he lets her manage the boat for him. Then she takes all his notes, and does all his telephoning, and passes along his orders to the commissary men, and seconds him at every turn. Did you ever in all your life see anybody change as she has done? When I remember the listless, useless, fretful specimen that she was, those first weeks, then look at her now, I can hardly believe my eyes."

Sally Lou listened a little impatiently.

"Yes, I know. Ned, please go and tell Roderick about the inspector's message. He surely ought to know."

"All right, I'm going." Ned put down his frolicking small sons reluctantly. Sally Lou laughed at his unwilling face. Yet she looked after him anxiously as he sauntered away. Then her eyes turned to the brimming canal. Tree branches and bits of lumber, washed down from the upper land by the heavy storm, rolled and tumbled past. The sky was thick and gray, the wind blew straight from the east.

"I hate to fidget and forebode. But I – I almost wish that I could make Ned forebode a little. I'm afraid he ought to worry. And Roderick ought to be a little anxious, too."

Suddenly the telephone bell rang. Sally Lou sprang to answer it.

"Yes, this is the contract camp. A Chicago call? Is it – Is it head-quarters? Oh, is this Mr. Breckenridge who is speaking? Shall I call Mr. Burford?"

Strong and clear across two hundred miles of storm the voice reached her, a hurrying command.

"Do not call your husband. No time. Operator says the wind raging here may break connections at any minute. Tell him that we have positive word that a tremendous rise is on the way. A cloudburst north of Huntsville started this new crest two hours ago. Moreover, a storm belt extends across the State, covering a district thirty miles wide directly north of you. Tell our engineers to spare neither money nor effort in making ready. Tell them, whatever else they must neglect, to save – "

Click!

The receiver dropped from Sally Lou's shaking hand. Not another sound came over the wire. She signalled frantically.

"Oh, if he had only told me! 'To save' – to save what? The machinery, the levee, the laterals – Oh, central, please, please!"

Still no sound. At last central's voice, a thin little whisper.

"Chicago connections broken … terrible storm … sorry can't reach – "

The thin little whisper dropped to silence.

"Mammy, take these babies. I'm going away." Sally Lou rolled Thomas Tucker off her lap and dashed away to Roderick's shack. Trembling, she poured out her ill news.

"This means business." Roderick, heavy-eyed and stupid, struggled into hip boots and slicker. "Breckenridge isn't frightening us for nothing. We daren't lose a minute. Come along, Burford."

"Come along – where?" Burford stood stunned before this bewildering menace. "What more can we do? Aren't we rushing the whole plant to the danger notch of speed as it is?"

"There is one thing we must do. Decide what part of the work we can abandon. Then put our whole force, men, machinery, and all, to work at the one point where it will do the most good."

"What can we abandon? It's all equally important."

"That is for you and me to decide. Come along."

"If Breck had only finished his sentence! 'To save – ' Surely he meant for us to save the dredges?"

Again the boys looked at each other.

"To save the dredges, maybe. But that doesn't sound like Breckenridge. 'To save the land-owners from loss,' that's more like what he'd say."

"If we could only reach him, for even half a minute – "

"That is precisely what we can't do." Roderick's big shoulders lifted. His heavy face settled into lines of steel. "We'll bring all three of the machines down stream, and put up our fight on the main ditch. If we can cut through to the river, before the rise gets here, we will save the crops for most of the land-owners, anyway. That will check any danger of the water backing up into the narrow laterals and overflowing them."

Burford frowned.

"Do you realize that by making that move we shall risk wrecking the dredges? We will have to tow them down in this rough, high water against this heavy wind. We may smash and sink all three. And they cost the company a cool twenty thousand apiece, remember."

Roderick's jaw set.

"I realize just that. But it is up to us to decide. If we stop our excavation and huddle the machines back into the laterals, we will save our equipment from any risk. But the overflow will sweep the whole lower district and ruin every acre of corn. On the other hand, if we bring the dredges down here and start in full tilt to deepen the channel, we may wreck our machines – and we may not. But, whatever happens, we will be giving the land-owners a chance."

Burford held back, but only for a moment. Then he put out his hand to Roderick, with a slow grin.

"I'm with you, Hallowell. I'll take your lead, straight through. It's up to us, all right. We've got to shoulder the whole responsibility, the whole big, hideous risk. But we'll put it through. That's all."

Together the boys hurried away. Left behind, the girls set to work upon their share of the plan with eager spirit.

"You go with the boys and run the launch for them, Marian. I'll turn the babies over to Mammy and stay right here to watch the telephone and keep the time-books, although time-books could wait, in such a pinch as this. We'll all pull together. And we will pull out safely, never fear."

Sally Lou was right. They all pulled together. Machines, laborers, foremen and all swung splendidly into line. As Ned said, the contract had never shown such team-work. Everybody worked overtime. Everybody faced the rain, the mud, the merciless hurry with high good-humor. The thrill of danger, the daring risk, the loyal zeal and spirit for the company, all spurred them on.

Side by side with Roderick, Marian worked through the day. She had long since forgotten her frail health. She had forgotten her hatred of the dun western country, her dislike of Roderick's work, her weariness, her impatience. With heart and soul she stood by her brother. Only the one wish ruled every act: her eager desire to help Roderick, to stand by him through to the end of this tremendous strain.

"We'll make it!" Roderick grinned at her, tired but content, as he came into the shack for his late supper. "Sally Lou finally reached Springfield on the telephone. The rain has stopped; so while the rise will come, sure as fate, yet it may not be as high as Breckenridge feared. At any rate, we have made splendid time with the big dredge to-day. There is barely an eighth of a mile more cutting to be done. Then we'll reach the river, and we'll be safe, no matter what freshets may happen along. Burford says I'm to take six hours' sleep; then I'll go on watch again. Twelve more hours of working time will see our land-owners secure."

"Ned Burford is running up the shore this minute." Marian peered through the tent flap. "Mulcahy is coming with him. They're in a hurry. I wonder what has happened."

"They'd better not bring me any bad news till I have eaten my supper," said Roderick grimly.

Burford and Mulcahy galloped up the knoll. Headlong they plunged into the tent. Burford was gray-white. Mulcahy stared at Roderick without a word.

"What has happened? Burford, what ails you?"

Burford sat down and mopped his sweating forehead.

"The worst break-down yet, Hallowell. The dipper-bail on the big dredge has snapped clear through."

The three stared at each other in helpless despair. Marian broke the silence.

"The dipper-bail broken again? Why, it's not two weeks since you put on the new handle!"

"True for you, miss. Not two weeks since it broke," said Mulcahy wrathfully. "And its smash means a tie-up all along the line. Not one stroke of ditch-work can be done till it's replaced. Who ever saw a dipper break her bail twice on the same job? 'Tis lightnin' strikin' twice in the same place. But 'tis no use cryin' over spilt milk. One of you gentlemen will have to go to Saint Louis and have a new bail welded at the steam forge. It will cost twenty-four hours' time, but it is the only way. I'll keep the boys hot at work on the levee construction meanwhile."

"Go to Saint Louis to-night! And neither of you two have had a night's sleep this week!" Marian looked at Burford. His sodden clothes hung on him. His round face was pinched and sunken with fatigue. She looked at her brother. He had slumped back in his chair, limp and haggard. He was so utterly tired that even the shock of ill news could not rouse him to meet its challenge.

Then she looked out at the weltering muddy canal, the dark stormy sky.

"Never mind, Rod. We'll manage. You and Ned make out the exact figures and dimensions for the new bail. Then Mulcahy can take me to Grafton in the launch. There I'll catch the Saint Louis train. I'll go straight to the steam forge and urge them to make your bail at once. Then I'll bring it back on the train to-morrow night."

Promptly both boys burst into loud, astonished exclamations.

"Go to Saint Louis alone! I guess I see myself letting you do such a preposterous thing. I'll start, at once."

"Stop that, Hallowell. You can't possibly go. You're so sleepy that you haven't half sense. I'll go myself."

"Oh, you will. Then what about your watch to-night? Shall I take it and my own, too?"

Burford stopped, quenched. He reddened with perplexity.

"We can't either of us be spared, that's the fact of it. But Miss Marian must not think of going."

"Certainly not. I would never allow it."

"Yes, Rod, you will allow it." Marian spoke quietly, but with determination. "The trip to Saint Louis is perfectly safe. Once in the city, I'll take a carriage to the College Club and stay there every minute, except the time that I must spend in giving orders for the bail. No, you two need not look so forbidding. I'm going. And I'm going this identical minute."

Later Marian laughed to remember how swiftly she had overruled every protest. The boys were too tired and dazed to stand against her. It was hardly an hour before she found herself flying down the river, in charge of the faithful Mulcahy, on her way to catch the south-bound train.

"The steam-forge people will do everything in their power to serve you," Roderick had said, as he scrawled the last memoranda for her use. "They know our firm, and they will rush the bail through and have it loaded on the eight-o'clock train. I'll see to it that Mulcahy and two men are at the Grafton dock to meet your train. But if anything should go wrong, Sis, just you hunt up Commodore McCloskey and ask him to help you; for the commodore is our guardian angel, I am convinced of that."

The trip to the city was uneventful. She awoke early, after a good rest, and hurried down to the forge works, a huge smoky foundry near the river. The shop foreman met her with the utmost courtesy and promised that the bail should be made and delivered aboard the afternoon train. Feeling very capable and assured, Marian went back to the club and had spent two pleasant hours in its reading-room when she was called to the telephone.

"Miss Hallowell?" It was the voice of the forge works foreman. "I – er – most unluckily we have mislaid the slip of paper which gave the dimensions of the bail. We cannot go on until we have those dimensions. Do you remember the figures?"

Poor Marian racked her brain. Not one measurement could she call to mind.

"I'll ask my brother over the long-distance," she told the foreman. But even as she spoke, she knew that there was no hope of reaching Roderick. All the long-distance wires were down.

"And not one human being in all Saint Louis who can tell me the size of that bail!" she groaned. "Oh, why didn't I measure it with my own tape-measure – and then learn the figures by heart! Yet – I do wonder! Would Commodore McCloskey know? He has been at the camp so often, and he knows everything about our machinery. Let's see."

Presently Commodore McCloskey's friendly voice rang over the wire.

"Well, sure 'tis good luck that ye caught me at the dock, Miss Marian. The Lucy is just startin' up-river. Two minutes more and I'd have gone aboard. So ye've lost the bail dimensions? Well, well, don't talk so panicky-like. I'll be with ye in two minutes, an' we'll go to the forge together. 'Tis no grand memory I have, but I can give them a workin' idea."

"Oh, if you only will, commodore! But the Lucy! How can you be spared?"

"Hoot, toot. The Lucy can wait while I go shoppin' with you. Yes, she has a time schedule, I know well. But, in high wather, whoever expects a Mississippi packet to be on time? Or in low wather, either, for that matter. I'll come to ye at once."

The commodore was as good as his word. Soon he and Marian reached the forge works. There his shrewd observation and his wise old memory suggested dimensions which proved later to be correct in every detail. Moreover, he insisted upon staying with Marian till the bail should be welded. Then, under his sharp eyes, it was loaded safely on the Grafton train. As he escorted Marian elegantly into the passenger coach, she ventured, between her exclamations of gratitude, to reprove him very gently.

"You have been too good to me, commodore. But when I think of the poor deserted Lucy! And the captain – what will he say?"

"He'll say a-plenty." The little commodore smiled serenely. "'Tis an unchivalrous set the steam-boat owners are, nowadays. If he were half as obligin' as the old captains used to be in the good days before the war, he'd be happy to wait over twenty-four hours, if need be, to serve a lady. But nowadays 'tis only time, time that counts. Sure, he's grieved to the heart if we make a triflin' loss, like six hours, say, in our schedule."

"And I'm not thanking you for myself alone," Marian went on, flushing. "It is for Rod, too. You don't know how much it means to me to be able to help him, even in this one small way."

Then the little commodore bent close to her. His shrewd little eyes gleamed.

"Don't I know, sure? An' by that token I'm proud of this day, and twice proud of the chance that's led me to share it. For, sure, I've always said it – the time would certain come when you —when you'd wake up. Mind my word, Miss Marian. Don't ye forget! Don't ye let go – and go to sleep again."

The train jarred into motion. His knotted little hand gripped hers. Then he was off and away.

"The dear little, queer little commodore!" Marian looked after him, her eyes a bit shadowy. "Though what could he mean! 'Now you've waked up.' I do wonder!"

Yet her wonder was half pretended. A hot flush burned in her cheek as she sat thinking of his words.

"Well, I'm glad, too, that I've 'waked up,' although I wish that something had happened to stir me earlier."

The train crept on through the flooded country. It was past eight o'clock when they reached Grafton. Marian hurried from the coach and watched anxiously while two baggagemen hoisted the heavy bail from the car.

"Well, my share is done," she said to herself. "That precious bail is here, safe and sound. But where is Mulcahy? And the launch? Rod said that he would not fail to be here by train time."

The train pulled out. From the dim-lit station the ticket agent called to her.

"You're expecting your launch, Miss Hallowell? There has been no boat down to-day."

"But my brother promised to send the launch," stammered Marian. "Surely they knew I was coming to-night!"

Then, in a flash of recollection, she heard Roderick's voice:

"And Mulcahy will meet you on the eight-o'clock train."

"Rod meant the train that leaves Saint Louis at eight in the morning! Not this afternoon train. How could I make such a blunder! He does not look for me to reach Grafton till to-morrow."

She looked at the huge, heavy bail.

"If that bail could reach camp to-night, they could ship it up and start to cutting immediately. It would mean seven or eight hours more of working time. But how to take it there!"

"There's a man yonder who owns a gasolene-launch," ventured the agent. "It's a crazy, battered tub, but maybe – "

Marian looked out at the night: the black, sullen river; the ranks of willows swaying in the heavy wind; the thunder that told of approaching storm.

"Call that man over, please. Yes, I shall risk the trip up-river. That bail shall reach camp to-night."

CHAPTER XII

PARTNERS AND VICTORIES

"What time is it, miss?"

Marian put down the gallon tin with which she had bailed steadily, and looked at her watch.

"Almost midnight."

"Only midnight!"

The steersman gave a weary yawn and turned back to his wheel. Inwardly Marian echoed his discouraged word. It seemed to her that she had crouched for years in the stern of the crazy little motor-boat. Rain and spray had drenched her to the skin. She ached in every half-frozen bone. Yet she sat, wide awake and alert, watching her pilot keenly.

He was a poor helmsman, she thought. However, an expert would have found trouble in taking an overloaded launch up-stream against that swollen current and in pitch darkness. Worse, the weight of the heavy dredge-bail weighed the launch down almost to water level. Every tiny wave splashed over the gunwale. Marian bailed on mechanically.

She had had hard work to bribe the owner to risk the trip up-stream. The men at Grafton had warned her, moreover, that she was running a narrow chance of swamping the launch, and thus of losing her precious piece of machinery, to say nothing of the danger to her own life. But all Marian's old timidity had fled, forgotten. Nothing else mattered if just she might serve her brother in his supreme need.

Through these four dreary hours the old commodore's quaint, frank words had echoed in her mind. And the commodore had been right, she owned, with a quiver of shame. Always, since their mud-pie days, Rod had done his part by her in full measure, generously, lovingly. Never, until these last days, had she even realized what doing her own part by Roderick might mean.

"Although I have been slower than my blessed old Slow-Coach himself in realizing what my life ought to count for. Well, as the commodore said, I have waked up at last. And mind this, Marian Hallowell! You stay awake! Never, never let me catch you dozing off again!"

"There's the camp light yonder," the steersman spoke at last, with a sigh of satisfaction.

Marian peered ahead through the cold, blinding mist. Away up-stream shone a feeble glimmer, then a second light; a third.

"Good! And – there are the dredge search-lights! Only a minute more and we'll be there."

Only a minute it seemed till the launch wheezed up to the landing and swung with a thud against the posts. Marian stumbled ashore.

"Mulcahy!" she called to the dark figure standing on the dredge deck. "Send two men to unload the bail for us."

"Marian Hallowell! Where under the shining sun did you come from?" Roderick leaped from the deck to the shore and confronted his sister. Then, in his horrified surprise at her daring risk, he pounced upon her and administered a scolding of such vigor that it fairly made her gasp.

"Of all the outrageous, reckless – "

"There, there, Rod! Look!"

Still breathing threatenings and slaughter, Roderick turned. Then he saw the huge new bail which the men were hoisting ashore.

"So that's what it all means! That's why you came up on the early train! You brought that bail yourself, all the way. You risked your life in that groggy little boat! All on purpose to help us out! Marian Hallowell, I'd like to shake you hard. And for two cents I'd kiss you right here and now. You – you peach!"

Burford, awakened by the launch whistle, was hurrying down the bank. Reaching the landing his eye fell on the precious new bail.

Utterly silent, he stared at it for a long rapt minute. Then, rubbing his sleepy eyes, he turned to Marian and Rod with a grin that fairly lighted up the dock.

"Now," he said, with slow exultation, "now – we've got our chance to win."

And win they did.

True, the water had already risen close to the dreaded three-foot danger-mark. True, neither of the boys had had half a dozen hours of sleep in three days. As for the laborers, they were fagged and overworked to the limit of their endurance. But not one of these things counted. Not a grumbling word was spoken. This was their company's one chance. Not a man held back from seizing that chance and making good. Not a man but felt himself one with the company, a living vital element of that splendid struggling whole.

Marian and Sally Lou stood on the shore watching the dredge as the great dipper crunched its way through the last submerged barrier. The canal rolled bank full. Little waves swashed over the platform on which they stood. Pools of seep-water already gathered behind the mud embankment, which was crumbling into miry avalanches with every sweep of rising water against it. Not by any chance could the levee stand another hour. But even as the dredge cut that narrow passage, the heavy overflow boiled outward into the river beyond. Minute by minute the rough surface of the canal was sinking before their watching eyes. Now it had fallen from six inches above to high-water mark; now to three inches below; now to mid-stage – and safety.

As the freed stream rolled out into the river, a great cheer rose from the laborers crowded alongshore. Roderick and Burford stayed aboard the dredge until it was warped alongside the dock and safely moored. Then they crossed to land and joined the girls. Neither of the boys spoke one word. They did not seem to hear the shouts and cheers behind them. There was no glow of success on their sober faces. Perhaps their relief was so great that they were a little stunned before its wonder. Victory was theirs; but victory won in the face of so great a danger that they could not yield and feel assured of their escape.

"We cannot reach head-quarters on the telephone, of course. But, by hook or crook, one of you boys must get a despatch through to Mr. Breckenridge. Think of being able to tell him that you have deepened the canal straight through to the river, so that the whole lower half of the district is safe from overflow! And that you have moved all these costly, treacherous machines down-stream without one serious accident, without so much as a broken bolt! It is too good to be true."