The Tomahawk., 1917-09-20

forlorn hope, that if they could not
save the dam nobody and nothing
could. And there was trace Of the
age-long rivalry between the Celt and
the Roman. The scion of the legionary
and the son Of the barbarian who had
fought together in the dawn Of history
We'd with each other then. Again and
again Meade had to order them back.
He was keenly sensible Of his danger.
He knew that if he fell. If the dyna-
mite struck the ground violently, it
might explode. He knew that the un-
stable illuminate of mercury in the
detonators might go off at any time
perhaps that was the greater danger
but he never checked his pace or hesi-
tated in leap or sought an easy way
for a second. His, soul was rising land
his heart was beating as they had
never risen or beaten in his life. And
the hearts of his men beat with his
own.
He knew, Of course, If the dam went
out the railroad, the bridge, the town,
the citizens, the women and children,
and everything and everybody. would
go. If he could save them, his act
might be set off against the loss Of the
International. But whether that were
true or not, whatever the conse-
Quences to him. he was bound to save
them. The weight of every man, the
weight Of every woman, the weight Of
every child in the valley, the weight
Of all the business enterprises Of the
town, ::1e weight of the great viaduct
Of steel, the weight Of the huge dam
itself, was on his shoulders as he ran.
He carried the burden lightly, as Atlas
might have upborne the world with
laughter. For, despite his determina-
ton and haste, he had in his heart the
great Joy that comes when men at
tempt grandly and dare greatly for
their fellow-men. If he could only by
and by see his hopes justified by sue
cess, his happiness would be complete
And there were thoughts personal rs
we'll as general. If he died, whether
successful or not, men would tell about
his endeavor. She would hear. 1t
came to, him afterward, when he
learned how she had looked down upon
him as he ran, that he had somehow
felt her presence, not a presence I'M
polling him to look up, but presence
driving him on. He lost his hat, he tore
off his long coat and threw it aside
as he plunged on with his precious bag
in his hand He did not dare to look
at his watch, he did not stop for any
thing, but it seemed that he must have
spent hours in that mad scramble over
the water-covered rocks. He heaved a
deep breath of relief when he rounded
the mesa and struck the trail. Bad as
was the going, it was nothing to what
they had passed over.
Presently he broke out into the open
slope and there before him was the
rounded curve Of the hogback, to gain
which he had risked SO much. Were
they in time? Yes, the water in the
lake was not flowing, it was only rls-
ing. Evidently the dam still held. he
ran along it till he reached the mar
rowest part Of it, twenty feet wide
between water-covered valley and
sharply descending ravine. The short
est separation between Picket Wire
and the Kicking Horse! The water in
the lake was within three feet Of the
crest. The rain was coming down
steadily. He could realize by the wa
ter level where he stood that it must
be tapping the top Of the dam now,
or little above it. he had five min
utes-ten at most. He was still in
time. The thoughts came to him as he
ran. And as he saw the place again
he made his instant plan.
He laid the dynamite down just as
Murphy and Funaro reached him and
stood painting, their heavy breathing,
the sweat mingling with the rain in
their wet faces, evidencing their ex-
haustion. From Murphy, who had been
the faster, Meade took the two tripod
and a half thick, with sharp metal
points. He jammed them down into
the ground about five feet from the
edge Of the Kicking Horse ravine and
about fifteen feet apart.
"Holes, there" he shouted, deep
enough for five cartridges"
Funaro nodded. He knew exactly
what to do. Murphy had often seen
the explosive gang at work. He was
quick-witted and he had only to follow
the Italians actions. The work was
simple. Selling their spades, the two
men cut into the sod, using the pick
to dislodge small powders and break
up the earth. The soil was light and
porous, and it had been well soaked
by the rain. After they had made an
excavation about two feet deep, they
laid aside their shovels, and with the
iron range pole as starter and the
bigger tripod stakes to follow, they
made two deep holes in. the ground,
forcing the pole and hen the stake
into the earth, which the continuing
rain tended to soften more and more
They made these holes about four feet
deep below the excavation. driving in
and twisting and churning the stakes
nv main strength