Boy Scouts of the Air on Lost Island | Page 4

toward the shore a bit first, and,
anyway, she can't drift upstream." So Jerry went on his way out toward
the middle of the dam.
It was really a monstrous affair, that dam. The old part was built on and
from solid rock, being really a jutting out of a lime stone cliff which
had stood high and dry before the water had been dammed up by the
heavy timber cribs cutting across the original stream. Concrete
abutments secured these timbers and linked the walls of stone with the
huge gates opening into the millrace that fed the water to the ponderous
undershot millwheel. Just now the gates were open and the water
rushed through with deafening force. Jerry made his way across the
stonework section, having a hard time in the water-worn crevices,
slimed over with recent overflows, for when the millgates were closed,
Plum Run thundered over this part of the dam in a spectacular
waterfall.
He had hardly reached the flat concrete before he noticed that the roar
from the millrace had ceased; the gates had been closed. All the better;

this part of the river was shallow; when the water rose, big fish would
be coming in to scour over the fresh feeding grounds. So he moved a
little nearer shore and quickly trimmed his lines. He heard a hail from
the bank as he made his first cast. It was from Dave.
"Mind if I come out and try my luck beside you?"
"Not at all. Water's coming up fast. Best try some grubs or worms,
though. No good for minnows here now."
"Sure," agreed Dave, settling comfortably beside him. "Water sure is
filling up, isn't she? Guess the Miller of the Dee dropped a cogwheel
into his wheat."
"Not wishing anybody any bad luck, but I hope they don't start up again
all day. This'll be a backwater as soon as the current starts going over
the dam. Another six inches--say! Look at Tod. If he isn't fishing right
above the flume. Wonder if he's noticed."
"Noticed? He's got a bite, that's what! Look at him bending to it. It's a
big one, you bet. Golly, did you see that!"
"I see more than that," exclaimed Jerry grimly, dropping his precious
pole and starting across the slippery rocks on the run. "If he doesn't get
out of there in about thirty seconds, he's going over the dam!"
But just as Jerry mounted the last clump of rocks, just as Dave's
desperate shouts had aroused Tod to a realization of his danger,--
something happened. You have watched a big soap bubble swelling the
one last impossible breath; you have seen a camp coffee kettle boiling
higher and higher till _splush!_ the steaming brown mass heaves itself
into the fire--the bending, crowding mile-wide surface of Plum Creek
found a sudden outlet. And right in the center of that outlet was a
plunging tiny boat.
"Help!" rang out one choked-off cry, as in a great rush of suddenly
foaming flood, over the dam plunged a boat and a terrorized boy.

CHAPTER II
A HOPELESS SEARCH
In the brief instant that Jerry stood on the slippery point of rock he had
the queer feeling that it was all a horrible dream, or at least only an
impossible scene from a motion picture. Where a boat had been a
second before was now only a seething, tossing down- tumbling wall of
brownish foam.
But his stunned inaction was quickly gone. Down to the very edge of
the flood he raced, almost losing his balance and toppling in. At a
dangerous angle he leaned over and peered into the churning water- pit
below.
Dave had come hurrying to his side, to miss his footing at the last and
plunge waist-deep into the current. A precious moment was lost in
rescuing him. When, both safe on the rocky ledge, they turned to scan
the depths of the fall, it was to see a dark object suddenly pop up full
fifty feet downstream. It was the boat--but no Tod.
"Did you see it!" cried Jerry excitedly. "Didn't it look like something
blackish in the bottom of the boat?"
"She's full of water, that's all. Tod's down there under the fall. He's
drowned, I tell you! What shall we do? What shall we do!" Excitable
Dave was fast losing his head.
"Come on!" shouted Jerry, aroused by the helplessness of his
companion. "We've got to get to the mill and have them turn the water
through the race. Then we've got to get a boat out there-- quick!"
But he had not waited for Dave. Across the river just below the dam
was a house. If there was a telephone there--Jerry knew there was one
at the mill--something might yet be done in time. There