Daily capital journal. (Salem, Oregon) 1903-1919, 1919-03-15
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Passing of the Waters.


Babcock came rushing down from
Los Angeles that morning to see what
in thunder 1t was all about. He asked
every one he met why some one didn't
get busy and stop the cutting back of
that river? There was no one at the
offices of the company to report to
him! Why, the building was desert
ed. Ogilvie's letters had prophesied
ruin. 1t all looked wrong to him. Co
ing on to the levee, he met MacLean,
Jr., who was coming away. The boy
told him vaguely that he would find
Rickard around there, somewhere.
'Tll hunt him up for you."
"Why, they are letting it get ahead
Of themw Babcock's manner sug-
gested that he was aggrieved that such
carelessness to his revered company
should go unpublished. Something, he
told MacLean, might have been done
before the situation got as bad as
thisl
His excited stride carried him
across the dividing ditch, which now
was carrying no water, into Mexicali.
MacLean had to lengthen his step to
keep pace with him. The havoc done
to the Mexican village excited Bah
cock still more.
Estrada, just In from his submerged
tracks, was lounging against an adobe
wall. His penslve gaze was turned
upstream. The posture Of exhaustion
suggested laziness to Babcock, who
was on the hunt for responsibility. He
was more than ever convinced that
the right thing was not being done.
Estrada |"
Estrada took his eyes from the river.
Babcock looked like a swapping ter
rler taking the ditch at bound. Mac
Lean. Jr., 1.-THE greyhound, followed.
what the devil are you doing to
stop this?" A nervous hand indicated
the Mexican station cleaning In its
fresh coat of paint; to the muddy Wa
ter undermining Its foundation.
Estrada drew a cigarette out Of his
pocket; lighted 1t before answering.
"Not thing. What do you sug-
gest?"
A big wave struck the bank. The
car on the siding trembled.
"Another wave like that and that
carll go over" cried Rabcock. Jump
ing, mad. "Why don't you do some
thing? Why don't you hustle-all of
your He would report this incompe-
tepcy.
Down the stream came mass of
debris. broken timbers, ravaged' brush,
a wrenched fence post, a chicken COOP.
A red hen, clinglng to Its swaying
ship, took the rapids.
"Hustle-what2" murmured Es.
trada.
Babcock glared at him, then at the
river. His eye caught the approach
ing wr"ckage. Men came running
with their poles. The caving bank was
too far gone. The instant the drift
ing mass struck II, there was shud-
der Of FILLING earth, the car toppled
toward the flood waters, the waves
breaking into clouds OF spray.
Human responsibility fell to cipher.
The rivers might was magnificent.
Even Babcock, come to carp. caught
the excitement. "Come, MacLean,P
he cried. "Watch this! The stations
goingw He joined Estrada by the
adobe wall.
'Have clgarettef" murmured
Eduardo.
His eyes glued to the lurching sta
tion-house. Babcock took brown
paper-rolled cigarette from the prof
fered box.
''Look," he cried. 'There, she'll go.
See that"
There was q splash of splintering
timber; a Niagara of spray as the
building fell into the food. A minute
later. wrcckagc of painted boards
was floating aownstream.
= Ut table Babcock resumed his cam
.paign. "grhe trouble with you all.
you have cold feet. You're all scared
Off too soon."
Wooster. up from his nap. looked
across the table. Gold feet? So
you'd have II you had been up for
nights. wetting your feet on the leyee.