“When Jack called, they answered, though it was too dark to see each other, and they asked Jack whom he was looking for. He told them that Ben Mayberry had gone on the bridge a few minutes before from this side, and he was afraid he had been swept away. They said there could be no doubt of it, as he had not reached the span on which they were standing. They then asked Jack whether he had seen anything of a horse and carriage, which drove on the bridge from the Moorestown side, and which they had come out to see about. Of course Jack could only make the same answer, and when they explained, it was learned that the carriage contained a lady and small child—so three lives have been lost from people not doing their duty in keeping folks out of danger.”
“Does the mother of Ben know anything about this?” I asked, with a shudder at the thought of her terrible grief.
“Yes; I went up to her house and told her first, as I thought it my duty to do.”
“Poor woman! she must have been overcome.”
“She was at first, and then when she asked me to tell her all about it, and I had done so, she said very quietly that she didn’t believe her boy was drowned.”
“Nor do I believe it!” I exclaimed, with a sudden thrill of hope. “Ben Mayberry is one of the best swimmers I ever saw; he went down with the lumber of the central span, and even if he could not swim, he had a good chance to float himself on some of the timbers or blocks of ice which are buoyant enough to support a dozen men.”
“All that is very true,” replied the policeman, who seemed to have thought of everything; “and I don’t deny that there is just the barest possibility in the world that you’re right. But you mustn’t forget that the roof of the bridge was over him, and has shut out the chance of his helping himself. Don’t you believe that, if he was alive, he would have answered the calls that Jack made to him? Jack has a voice like a fog-horn, and Ben would have heard him if he was able to hear anything.”
This view of the case staggered me, and I hardly knew what to say, except to suggest that possibly Ben had answered the call, and was unheard in the rushing waters; but the officer shook his head, and I confess I shared his doubts.
“Just as the splintering timbers went down, Jack did hear the shout of Ben; he heard, too, the scream of a woman, and that awful cry which a horse sometimes makes when in the very extremity of peril, but that was all.”
I could not sleep after such horrifying tidings, when the policeman had gone; I went into the house and donned my overshoes and rubber coat. Fortunately my family had not been awakened by the ringing of the bell, and I did not disturb them; but, carefully closing and locking the door after me, I went out in the storm and darkness, oppressed by a grief which I had not known for years, for Ben Mayberry was as dear to me as my own son, and my heart bled for the stricken mother who, when she most needed a staff to lean upon during her declining years, found it cruelly snatched from her.