Human responsibility fell to a cipher. The river’s might was magnificent. Even Babcock, come to carp, caught the excitement. “Come, MacLean,” he cried. “Watch this! The station’s going!” He joined Estrada by the adobe wall.
“Have a cigarette?” murmured Eduardo.
His eyes glued to the lurching station-house, Babcock took a brown-paper-rolled cigarette from the proffered box.
“Look,” he cried. “There, she’ll go. See that—”
There was a splash of splintering timber; a Niagara of spray as the building fell into the flood. A minute later, a wreckage of painted boards was floating down-stream.
At table Babcock resumed his campaign. “The trouble with you all, you have cold feet. You’re all scared off too soon.”
Wooster, up from his nap, looked across the table. “Cold feet? So you’d have if you had been up for nights, wetting your feet on the levee, as some of us have, as Hardin has. Mine are cold all right.” He lifted an amazed foot. “Cold! Look here, boys, they’re wet!” The men looked to find the water creeping in—Babcock climbed on his chair.
“This means the station,” cried Wooster. Every man jumped. If the waters had got to them, it wouldn’t be long before they were reaching the O. P. depot! The tracks would go— They were piling out of the door when the telephone caught them. It was a message from Rickard. A car was to be rigged up, papers, tickets and express matter taken from the station. The river was cutting close to the track. The car would be the terminal, a half-mile from town.
The situation looked black. Coulter, Eggers, began to pack their stock. The levee, it was said, would not hold— Half of Mexicali was gone. Calexico would go next. Rickard’s Indians were kept stolidly piling brush and stuffed sacks on the levee. This, the word ran, would be the fierce night—no one expected to sleep.
They were preparing for the big battle, the final struggle, when the grade recession passed the town. Spectacular as was its coming, there was an anticlimax in its retreat. The water reached the platform of the depot, and halted. The town held its breath. There was some sleep that night.