--proud of what he's done--!

"As nearly as I can make it out, they have got a boat leaning against the
dam with five hundred pounds of TNT in it--or hanging under it--I don't
know which--

"There is a battery in the boat, and clockwork to set the whole thing off
at ten o'clock tonight. He didn't come right out and say so, you
understand, and I may be making a fool of myself. But if I am--God knows,
it won't be the first time ... Anyhow we'll soon know."

It was a circuitous road that led to the dam. The rain was pouring again,
the streets deserted. Once they were held up at a railroad crossing....

The clock in the car pointed at five minutes to ten when their headlights
finally fell upon the bridge. As they drew nearer they could hear nothing
in the darkness but the thunder of the water. The bridge was a low one
and only twenty yards up the stream from the falls; but though they
strained their eyes to the uttermost they couldn't see as far as the dam.

"I'll turn one of the headlights," said Archey, "and we'll drive over
slow."

The lamp, turned at an angle, swept over the edge of the dam like a
searchlight. Half way over the bridge the car stopped. They had found
what they were looking for.

"Why doesn't it go over?" shouted Archey, jumping out.

"Anchored to a tree up the bend, I guess," Paul shouted back. "They must
have played her down the stream after dark."

Nearly over the dam was a boat painted black and covered with tarpaulin.

"The explosive is probably hanging from a chain underneath," thought
Paul. "The current would hold it tight against the mason-work."

"We ought to have brought some help," shouted Archey, suddenly realizing.
"If that dam breaks, it will sweep away the factory and part of the
town.... What are you going to do?"

Paul had dropped his hat in the stream below the bridge and was watching
to see where it went over the crest. It swept over the edge a few feet to
the right of the boat.

He moved up a little and tried next by dropping his coat. This caught
fairly against the boat. Then before they knew what he was doing, he had
climbed over the rail of the bridge and had dropped into the swiftly
moving water below.

"Done it!" gasped Hutchins.

Paul's arms were clinging around the bow of the boat. He twisted his
body, the current helping him, and gained the top of the tarpaulin. Under
the spotlight thrown by the car, it was like a scene from some epic
drama, staged by the gods