dies, grumbling fiercely, bubbling, gurgling, searching
busily for an opening, the river, turned back on itself, gathered its
swollen and angry forces.

"That will do, boys," said Orde with satisfaction.

He led the way to the bank and sat down. The men followed his example.
Every moment the water rose, and each instant, as more logs came down
the current, the jam became more formidable.

"Nothing can stand that pressure," breathed Newmark, fascinated.

"The bigger the pressure the tighter she locks," replied Orde, lighting
his pipe.

The high bank where the men sat lay well above the reach of the water.
Not so the flat on which stood Reed's mill. In order to take full
advantage of the water-power developed by the dam, the old man had
caused his structure to be built nearly at a level with the stream.
Now the river, backing up, rapidly overflowed this flat. As the jam
tightened by its own weight and the accumulation of logs, the water
fairly jumped from the lowest floor of the mill to the one above.

Orde had not long to wait for Reed's appearance. In less than five
minutes the old man descended on the group, somewhat of his martial air
abated, and something of a vague anxiety manifest in his eye.

"What's the matter here?" he demanded.

"Matter?" inquired Orde easily. "Oh, nothing much, just a little jam."

"But it's flooding my mill!"

"So I perceive," replied Orde, striking a match.

"Well, why don't you break it?"

"Not interested."

The old warrior ran up the bank to where he could get a good view of his
property. The water was pouring into the first-floor windows.

"Here!" he cried, running back. "I've a lot of grain up-stairs. It'll be
ruined!"

"Not interested," repeated Orde.

Reed was rapidly losing control of himself.

"But I've got a lot of money invested here!" he shouted. "You miserable
blackguard, you're ruining me!"

Orde replaced his pipe.

Reed ran back and forth frantically, disappeared, returned bearing an
antiquated pike-pole, and single-handed and alone attacked the jam!

Astonishment and delight held the rivermen breathless for a moment. Then
a roar of laughter drowned even the noise of the waters. Men pounded
each other on the back, rolled over and over, clutching handfuls of
earth, struggled weak and red-faced for breath as they saw against the
sky-line of the bristling jam the lank, flapping figure with the old
plug hat pushing frantically against the immovable statics