ad been rising at the rate of an inch every three minutes; that it had
then taken six, and now required eight! He glanced at the sky; it had
stopped raining and a light was breaking in the West.

Pocketing his watch he beckoned to Jack:

"The worst is over, Breen," he said in a voice of perfect calmness--the
tone of a doctor after feeling a patient's pulse. "Our culvert is doing
its work and relieving the pressure. This water will be out of here by
morning. Tell the foreman to keep those planks moving wherever they do
any good, but they won't count much longer. You can see the difference
already in the overflow. And now go up to the house and tell Ruth. She
may not know we are all right and will be worrying."

Jack's heart gave a bound. No more delightful duty could devolve on him.

"What shall I tell her about the damage if she asks me, sir?" he
demanded, hiding his pleasure in a perfunctory, businesslike tone, "and
she will."

"Tell her it means all summer here for me and no new bonnets for her
until next winter," replied MacFarlane with a grim smile.

"Yes, I suppose, but I referred to the money loss," Jack laughed in
reply. "There is no use worrying her if we are not to blame for this."
He didn't intend to worry her. He was only feeling about for some topic
which would prolong his visit and encourage conversation.

"If we are, it means some thousands of dollars on the wrong side of the
ledger," answered MacFarlane after a pause, a graver tone in his
voice. "But don't tell Ruth that. Just give her my message about the
bonnet--she will understand."

"But not if McGowan is liable," argued Jack. If Ruth was to hear bad
news it could at least be qualified.

"That depends somewhat on the wording of his contract, Breen, and a good
deal on whether this village wants to hold him to it. I'm not crossing
any bridges of that kind, and don't you. What I'm worrying about is the
number of days and nights it's going to take to patch this work so they
can get trains through our tunnel--And, Breen--"

"Yes, sir," answered Jack, as he stopped and looked over his shoulder.
There were wings on his feet now.

"Get into some dry clothes before you come back."

While all this had been going on Ruth had stood at the window in the
upper hall opposite the one banked with geraniums, too horrified to
move. She had watched with the aid of her opera-glass the wild torrent
rushing through the meadow, and she had heard the shouts of th