That thousands of dollars' damage had so far been done did not
seem to affect him in the least. Only when Jack would call out
that everything so far was solid on the main "fill" did his calm
face light up.
Tightening his wide slouch hat farther down on his head, he drew
up the tops of his high-water boots and strode through the slush
to the pick-handle. His wooden record showed that half an hour
before the water had 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.
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