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" you see anything of him, Ned?"

"Not a thing, Mr. Damon. Wait—hold on—no! It's only a bird," and the lad lowered the glasses with which he had been sweeping the sky, looking for his chum returning in his airship with the powder.

"He'd better hurry," murmured the foreman. "That dam can't last much longer. The water is rising fast. When it does go out it will go with a rush. Then good-bye to the village of Preston."

"Bless my insurance policy!" cried Mr. Damon. "Don't say such' things, my friend."

"But they're true!" insisted the man. "You can see for yourself that the cracks in the dam are getting larger. It will be a big flood when it does come. And I'm not altogether sure that we're safe up here," he added, as he looked down the sides of the hill to where the creek was now rapidly becoming a raging torrent.