Adventure Magazine Cover, April 3, 1918 — page 164: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

162 give the foolish ones some twenty minutes to get to safety. In there—” he stretched a finger unsteadily toward the plant’s little ofice—‘is a phone.” Marian transferred his message almost verbatim. Half an hour later every soul in Westover had received the warning. The typhoid sufferers were wrapped in blankets and carefully carried to houses that stood high and above the danger-line. Those who were incredulous enough to remain in their threatened homes were not, fortu- nately, incredulous enough to put out their lights. Neither did they go to sleep. The sawmill engineer stood at his post before the current-breaker, ready to flash the signal in Westover. Huntley stood at an open window that faced the dam; and beside him was Marian, with her gaze upon the muddy, foam-dotted and débris-covered waters below. She had wanted to return to her father, but Huntley wouldn’t permit it; the road to Westover lay in the valley all the way down, and it was too hazardous. “Peter,” she murmured, when she had wrung from him a confirmation of her sus- picions and knew everything, ‘Peter, I. hope the dam will break, almost.” “Marian!” ‘“‘Almost, I said. For then you will have whipped your home town, which ruined your gentleman father and called you a villain when you fought for your rights, the town you both love and hate. The engineer isn’t looking; if you can take your eyes off that dam for a second, you may kiss me, Peter, dear.”’ He did it. Just then the droning miserere of the mad waters widened into a far-reaching, gushing roar, and with it came the grinding jar of stone upon stone. Peter whirled. “Break the “Break it! Wildman!”’ With the knowledge that he had suc- ceeded in saving the little city he was to hate no longer, reactionary weakness over- powered him, and he sank to the floor. The solitary cell had taken its toll at last. They hurried him to his father’s home in Faidleysville, and the people of a whole county hung upon tidings concerning his current!’ he bellowed. Once—twice—again—good, Adventure condition as though it were a matter of life or death to them. Peter got well soon. Save for a thorough wetting, Westover was not very badly damaged by the flood. ‘The waters had spread and thereby lost much of their force by the time they had gone the four miles, and only a few houses were swept from their foundations. Fortunately, those buildings directly in the path of the current were of brick or stone. WHEN the cleaning-up was over and the people were pretty close to = happiness again, Westover’s mayor eafled a meeting of certain men in the libra- ry of his home. When they were all there, Judge Urhart rose beside his littered desk and addressed them with a peculiar glint in his eyes. “Gentlemen,” he began, ‘‘we are here tonight to organize the Business Men’s League of Westover. The league is going to begin its-business by doing these things: “First, it’s going to pay old John Huntley back all he lost to us. Second, it’s going to build a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of dam and power-plant on the river below the city—and the job is going to be put into the hands of Peter Huntley, the man to whom Westover owes its life. Third, it’s going to stand behind all the bigger damage done by the flood.” He spoke with an air of finality. He was still the Big Boss. And yet, there was one man of those present who dared to criticize him. That man was Farnsworth Alden. “IT have just read,’ he sneered, wedding announcement.”’ Judge Urhart went white and stared hard. “That has nothing whatever to do with it. It’s gratitude, you hog. Peter Hunt- ley whipped me, Farnsworth, a little harder than he whipped you, only he did it in a different way. If you refuse to do your part by this amende honorable, by posit, you'll go to prison! I may have to gO with you; but, take my word for it, you’ll gol I am waiting for your decision ‘right now, sir.’ “Oh, I—I’ll not refuse,” replied Alden. Whereupon Judge Urhart took his right hand from his right hip-pocket. ‘“‘the COnnicloool< (C@