The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-02-21

The wind covered a passionate si- fence, as the two women, followed by Sam, yawning and stretching, made their way down the shrieking street. 'It was true" Innes was thinking. She had at last stumbled on the rout, but it was not matter Of personal, but moral uutidiness; not Carelessness of pins or plates, of tapes or dishes. It was far worse; a slackness of ethics. It meant more unhappiness for Tom. Her aching muscles told her that she could not have slept four hours when the darIy was back, knocking at her door.
 Innes' horse Iopcd through the silent streets.
 I'll run past the levee; perhaps Tom has come back" It occurred to her that there might be a message at the hotel. She pulled on her left rein, and swept past the deserted adobe.
 As she refined in her horse, Rickard stepped out on the sidewalk. He, too, was heayy-eyed from a snatchcd nap. "were you looking for me?'
 The scorn in the girls face told him that his question was stupid. For him!
 Has my brother come backT'
 He said he did not know. You can see I have been dreaming! !' She would not smile back at him, but rode of toward the levee.
 Was this the river? West of the levee, a sea of muddy water spread over the land. There was yet q chance to save the towns, the town, she cor rected herself. as her eye fell on the Mexican village across the ditch. For Mexicali was doomed. Some of the mud huts had already fallen; the wa ter was running close to the station house.
 She saw Wooster standing near, cal culating the distance, the time, per haps, before the new station would go. She hailed Wooster. Ruin was pre- saged in the lines of his forehead.
 Pretty bad?" she cried.
 He shook his head.
 "Is Tom back?'
 Hes over there, now. Fighting like all possessed. He'll work till he drops" Wooster was proud of that method.
 
 sprang up. But he's got to stop for a while. I'm going up after him.
 ''Not if my names Wooster. I'll go. He'll mind me"
 She watched the flowing river, swol- len with wreckage. She saw, with comprehension, a section of a fence i; somebody's crop gone. There was a railway tie, another! The river was eating up Estrada's new roadbed? A cry broke from her as q mesquit on the coffee-colored tide caught on q buried snag. The current swirled dan- gerously around it. Instantly, the Wa ter rose toward the top of the Ievee. Men came running to pry away the tree. A minute later, 1t was dancing down the stream. They raised the bank against the pressing tapping waves. There, the tree had struck again. They ran down the levee with their long poles Each time that hap pened, unless the obstruction were swiftly dislodged, she knew it meant an artificial fall somewhere, a quick securing out of the channel The men were working like silent parts of 6 big machine; the confusion of the first night was gone. From their faces one would not guess that their fortunes, their homes, hung on the subdufng of that iudomitable force which had not yet known defeat, which had turned back explorer and conquistador. An there was the lurking fear of itl Vic. tory still lay to it's credit; the other column was blank.
 She saw Wooster coming toward her. His snapping black eyes shot out sparks of anger.
 ''He won't let me go.''
 "Who won't let you?" But she knew
 "Casey. Says he'll send some onC else. l said as nobody elsed EIaE;
 I5>