the
excavation, the foreman at his heels. Men turned in their tracks and
wallowed back after Jim.

The derrick had fallen in such a way that its broken boom held back a
portion of the slide. From under the boom protruded a brown hand with
almond-shaped nails; unmistakably the hand of an Indian. The least
movement of the boom would send the sand down over the wreckage of the
derrick.

Uncontrollably moved for a moment, Jim dropped to his knees and crawled
close to touch the inert hand. "Don't move!" he shouted. "We will get
you out!" For just a moment, an elm shaded street and a dismantled
mansion flashed across his vision. Then he got a grip on himself and
crawled out.

"Get a bunch of men with shovels!" he cried. "Dig as if you were digging
in dynamite."

"They are dead under there, Boss!" pleaded the foreman. "And they ain't
nothing but an Injun and a Mexican, an ornery _hombre_! And if you don't
let the flume in this whole place'll wash out like flour. It'll take an
hour to get them out."

Jim's lips tightened. "You weren't up on the Makon, Fritz. My rule is,
fight to save a life at any cost. Keep those fellows digging like the
devil."

He hurried back up onto the section, thence up to the flume edge. Then
he gave an exclamation. The brown water had risen an inch while he was
in the excavation. He ran for the telephone again.

In a moment a new form of activity began in the river bed. Every man who
was not digging gingerly at the sand slide was turned to throwing bags
of sand on cofferdam and flume edge to hold back the river as long as
might be. Jim stood on the concrete section and issued his orders. His
voice was steel cool. His orders came rapidly but without confusion. He
concentrated every force of his mind on driving his army of workmen to
the limit of their strength, yet on keeping them cool headed that every
moment might count.

It was an uneven fight at that. Old Jezebel gathered strength minute by
minute. The brown water was dripping over onto the concrete when
someone caught Jim's arm.

"Where shall I go, Boss Still?"

"Thank God, Iron Skull!" exclaimed Jim. "Go down and get that _hombre_
and Apache out."

Iron Skull ran down into the excavation. The brown water began to seep
over the edge of the pit. The men who were digging above the slide swore
and threw down their shovels. Jim tossed his megaphone to the cement
engineer and ran to meet the men.

"Get back there," he said quietly. Th