ping in on Randall's
old white horse, like a second Paul Revere, crying that the iron bridge
had gone, and the logs were racing down river toward the booms.

"It just went out!" he answered the eager exclamations of the men who
crowded around him. "That's all I know. It went out! And the other
bridges! Sure! All but the Lake Shore! Don't know why that didn't go
out. No; the logs didn't jam there; just slid right under!"

"That settles it," said Welton, turning away.

"You aren't going to quit!" cried Orde.

"Certainly. You're crazy!" said Welton with some asperity. "If they
can't stop a little jam with iron, what are your wooden defences going
to amount to against the whole accumulation? When those logs hit the
tail of this jam, she'll go out before you can wink."

He refused to listen to argument.

"It's sure death," said he, "and I'm not going to sacrifice my men for
nothing, even if they'd stay."

Other owners among the bystanders said the same thing. An air of
profound discouragement had fallen on them all. The strain of the fight
was now telling. The utmost that human flesh and blood was capable
of had been accomplished; a hard-won victory had been gained by the
narrowest of narrow margins. In this new struggle the old odds were
still against them, and in addition the strength that had pushed aside
Redding's best effort, augmented by the momentum of a powerful current.
It was small wonder they gave up.

Already the news was spreading among the workers on the jams. As man
shouted to man, each shouldered his peavy and came running ashore, eager
question on his lips. Orde saw the Government driver below casting loose
from her moorings. A moment later her tug towed her away to some side
bayou of safety out of the expected rush to the Lake.

"But we can hold her!" cried Orde in desperation. "Have a little nerve
with you. You aren't going to quit like that!"

He swept them with his eye; then turned away from them with a gesture of
despair. They watched him gravely and silently.

"It's no use, boy," said old Carlin; "it's sure death."

"Sure death!" Orde laughed bitterly. "All right; sure death, then. Isn't
there a man in this crowd that will tackle this sort of sure death with
me?"

"I'm with you."

"And me," said North and the Rough Red in a breath.

"Good!" cried Orde. "You, too, Johnny Sims? and Purdy? and Jimmy Powers?
Bully boys!"

"I reckon you'll need the tug," said Marsh.

A dozen more of Or