The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1906-02-07

B. and \. rOadbed. Hear that tumble!
Train passing overhead. Must be a
special. Next regular train is the ex-
press at quarter past 1. Now we're I'M
der the KenSington Drive. Here we
tunneled right below General Smiths
house. The water'll run here at the
rate of ten miles an hour. Think of it!
Thousands of gallons a minute pilins
through here in less than half an
hour. Quiet enough now. Unhealthy
place to be in then.
"Hark! What's that?" suddenly OK
| claimed the engineer. his voice rising
| almost to a shrek as he turned sharply
on the reporter.
His practised ear had caught a dis
tant murmur. Sanders listened, and
heard it, too. From far up the pipe
echoed a low. swelling sound. halfway
between the rumble of a train and the
monotone of the surf on a sandy beach.
Louder and louder it came, gathering
in volume. The two looked at each
| other with startled faces. Atterbury's
| cheeks grew pale. He snatched his
watch from his pocket, and flashing
the lamp-bulb Oil the crystal, inspected
| it closely. A cry Of alarm broke from
his lips. The hands were still at TWEEN.
ty-seven minutes to I!
How long had it been since the
watch stopped? At Z the gate at the
lake was to have been lifted. After
bury faced Sanders suddenly.
"Good heavens. man.! he cried. "The
waters not more than a mile or so
away. and coming down like a race
horse! If we're not out of this pipe ill
less than five minutes, they'll be fishing
our bodies from the city reservoir early
tomorrow morning.
No further words were spoken be.
tween the two imperiled men. They
raced at the top of their speed toward
the open manhole in the station a half.
mile back.
The bricks beneath their feet were
slippery. The air was close, and both
were soon painting. But it would mol
do to stop. 1t was a far different
progress from their leisurely walk I
few minutes before.
Ah-r-r-r-r! Sound carried far through
that narrow pipe. AS the engineer ran.
he could trace in his mind the course
Of the flood from the time the water.
gate at the lake was opened. He
seemed to see it's first yeasty, bubb!inS
onrush into the black tunnel that had
been two years preparing for its re
| ception. He could see it foaming down
the long grade through Litchman's Val
ley, and then swerving to the left to
parallel the course Of the river for
three miles. until it swung back again,
dove under Eyebright Hill, and came
surging on beneath the meadows OF
Charing till it was nearly upon them.
He, seemed to see it's spumy front,
springlng out of the darkness like a
raging wild beast.
Nearer came the water. Louder grew
the o 1t rang in their ears like the
voice of doom. There was no hope. no
mercy. The pipe shut them in with
it's smooth. pitiless bricks. The engi-
neer's face was CHASTITY. He painted as
he ran.
Sanders foot slipped. Down he went
in a %sprawling heap, carried along for a
short distance by his own impetus. The
engineer stopped. In an instant his
arms were under those Of the reporter,
and he helped him to his feet.
Don't Go that again" he shouted
hoarsely. Again they ran on.
And now it was Atterbury's turn. He
slipped and shot heavily forward. San
ders went into him full tilt, and was
likewise capsized. The electric lamp
was broken and extinguished by the
catastrophe. Instantly the reporter
was on his feet. ready to run on. But
before he started he waited for the en-
gineer. He could not see him in the
darkness; but. even above the deepen
ing sound of the food, he heard a faint
groan. He CROPPED back and touched a
heap of clothing. A wrcnched tendon
had made it impossible for the engineer
to stand upright unaided. Atterbury
shouted. go on! Never mind me"
But Sanders picked him up in his
strong arms, and half-carried, half.
dragged him rapidly along the pipe.
Ahead a faint light glimmered through
the open manhole. Close behind burst
the increasing roar of the torrent.
| Could tic reporter make the distance
in time?
The rope ladder dangled in the OPEN
ing. Above, the pallid face Of the
Swede looked down. Sanders dragged
Atterbury to the foot of the ladder.
The engineers hands clinched the
rounds, and he weLt>up like a practised
athlete, barely touching his injured
foot.
1t was Sanders turn now. Had he
waited too long? There was no time
to trihe with the rounds Of hemp. Up
he sprang. and caught the edge Of
the manhole with his fingers.
AS he leaped he had a glimpse Of a
confused turmoil Of water, a foamy
torrent shooting out of the b%lackness
to overwhelm him. Something caught
at his feet with a rush and roa and
dragged them irrcsistibly down. But
the Swede and Atterbury seized him
by the wrists and swung him up
through the opening; and in a second
he was lying on the floor above, trying
to recover his breath. while the sta
ton man slammed down the cover Of,
the manholc, and screwed it on to keep
oft the flood that Threatened to burst