It was small wonder they gave up.
Already the news was spreading among the workers on the jams. As
man shouted to man, each shouldered his peavy and came running
ashore, eager question on his lips. Orde saw the Government driver
below casting loose from her moorings. A moment later her tug towed
her away to some side bayou of safety out of the expected rush to
the Lake.
"But we can hold her!" cried Orde in desperation. "Have a little
nerve with you. You aren't going to quit like that!"
He swept them with his eye; then turned away from them with a
gesture of despair. They watched him gravely and silently.
"It's no use, boy," said old Carlin; "it's sure death."
"Sure death!" Orde laughed bitterly. "All right; sure death, then.
Isn't there a man in this crowd that will tackle this sort of sure
death with me?"
"I'm with you."
"And me," said North and the Rough Red in a breath.
"Good!" cried Orde. "You, too, Johnny Sims? and Purdy? and Jimmy
Powers? Bully boys!"
"I reckon you'll need the tug," said Marsh.
A dozen more of Orde's personal following volunteered. At once his
good humour returned; and his easy leisurely confidence in himself.
"We've got to close that opening, first thing," said he.
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