The water was slack
enough before, but now there seems to be no current at all."
"Case of wait for the wind," agreed Tom North. "Old Daly will be
red-headed. He must be about out of logs at the mill. The flood-
water's going down every minute, and it'll make the riffles above
Redding a holy fright. And I expect Johnson's drive will be down on
our rear most any time."
"It's there already. Let's go take a look," suggested Orde.
They picked their way around the edge of the pond to the site of the
new mill.
"Sluice open all right," commented Orde. "Thought she might be
closed."
"I saw to that," rejoined North in an injured tone.
"'Course," agreed Orde, "but he might have dropped her shut on you
between times, when you weren't looking."
He walked out on the structure and looked down on the smooth water
rushing through.
"Ought to make a draw," he reflected. Then he laughed. "Tom, look
here," he called. "Climb down and take a squint at this."
North clambered to a position below.
"The son of a gun!" he exclaimed.
The sluice, instead of bedding at the natural channel of the river,
had been built a good six feet above that level; so that, even with
the gates wide open, a "head" of six feet was retained in the slack
water of the pond.
Pages:
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29