weather; then the rains began again. Kate said she had all the music
she desired; she proposed to be safe; so she went and opened the
sluiceway to reduce the pressure on the dam. The result was almost
immediate. The water gushed through, lowering the current and lessening
the fall. George grumbled all day, threatening half a dozen times to
shut the sluice; but Kate and the carpenter were against him, so he
waited until he came slipping home after midnight, his brain in a
muddle from drink, smoke, and cards. As he neared the dam, he decided
that the reason he felt so badly was because he had missed hearing it
all day, but he would have it to go to sleep by. So he crossed the
bridge and shut the sluice gate. Even as he was doing it the thunder
pealed; lightning flashed, and high Heaven gave him warning that he was
doing a dangerous thing; but all his life he had done what he pleased;
there was no probability that he would change then. He needed the roar
of the dam to quiet his nerves.

The same roar that put him to sleep, awakened Kate. She lay wondering
at it and fearing. She raised her window to listen. The rain was
falling in torrents, while the roar was awful, so much worse than it
had been when she fell asleep, that she had a suspicion of what might
have caused it. She went to George's room and shook him awake.

"Listen to the dam!" she cried. "It will go, as sure as fate. George,
did you, Oh, did you, close the sluice-gate when you came home?"

He was half asleep, and too defiant from drink to take his usual course.

"Sure!" he said. "Sweesish mushich ever hearsh. Push me shleep."

He fell back on the pillow and went on sleeping. Kate tried again to
waken him, but he struck at her savagely. She ran to her room, hurried
into a few clothes, and getting the lantern, started toward the bridge.
At the gate she stepped into water. As far as she could see above the
dam the street was covered. She waded to the bridge, which was under
at each end but still bare in the middle, where it was slightly higher.
Kate crossed it and started down the yard toward the dam. The earth
was softer there, and she mired in places almost to her knees. At the
dam, the water was tearing around each end in a mad race, carrying
earth and everything before it. The mill side was lower than the
street. The current was so broad and deep she could not see where the
sluice was. She hesitated a second to try to locate it from the