Shirley ran after him and followed him into the road. There she encountered a rider; and the conversation with which this story begins took place.
As the girl sped down the road, she could hear from far behind, the roar of the waters as they came tumbling after her.
A farmhouse came into sight. A man, a woman and several children came out, attracted by the galloping hoofbeats. Without checking the speed of her mount a single instant, Shirley guided the horse close to them.
“The dam! The dam!” she shouted, as she flashed by.
No other words were necessary. Without stopping to gather up any of their effects, they all turned their faces and rushed for higher ground.
A second, a third, and a fourth farmhouse came into view, and as she flashed by, the girl hurled her warning at each.
Half a mile below lay the little town of Stanley. It was for this that Shirley was headed, in her race with the rushing water.
The roar behind her became louder, and Shirley, leaning over her horse’s neck, urged him to further efforts with soft and coaxing words.
The noble animal, seeming to realize that he was upon a message of life or death, responded, and it seemed that he must have winged feet, so lightly and swiftly did he fly over the ground.
But the roaring wall of water came closer.