[ CHAPTER III]
THE BREAK-WATER ACCIDENT
Although it had been subdued, and was deprived of its fangs, the fire continued to burn for several days. It burrowed deep into the sawdust, and lurked amid the great masses of black rubbish where once had been lumber and lath, as if loth to leave its mangled prey.
The out-of-town firemen returned home that evening, but all that night, and up to the middle of the next week, the Beaufort department kept streams playing upon the smoking ruins.
For a time these sorry-looking yards were regarded by Bob and Ned and other Beaufort youth as a very entertaining place. It was fun to explore the desolate area, and conjecture what had been on this spot, and what on that. No small spice of danger, too, was offered by the tempting, swaying run-ways and crumbling piles. But at length the sport palled, and the Beaufort boys sought elsewhere for amusement and occupation.
In regard to occupation, Ned did not have to seek far. At his back door-step were those eleven loads of wood. One Saturday had come and gone, and scarcely an impression had been made upon the grim mountain of slabs. This was the last week of school; another Saturday, and then he must pile every day until he had performed his duty. That done he would be free to do about as he pleased.
Could wishing have availed, those slabs would have been in Halifax very soon, consigned there by Ned. But of course Mr. Miller would have promptly ordered eleven more loads, and since in Beaufort were several lumber yards to draw upon, Ned’s case, even were Halifax to aid him, was hopeless.
He did what any sensible boy would have done; he pitched into the wood, working after school and all day Saturday, and by the opening of the vacation he had dug a great cave in the flank of the mountain. Like the majority of tasks, this one, when stoutly tackled, was not so big as it had appeared.
In regard to the amusement, this never could be lacking while the river flowed past the town. The warm rains and sun of the spring had taken the chill from the water, and had made it almost comfortable for swimming, when down had rushed the freshet, with its icy flood of melted snow, and had spoiled matters. Now the Mississippi was again at its ordinary level, and under the influence of the summer weather was rapidly assuming an agreeable temperature.
By the wireless telegraphy of boyhood the news that there was “good swimming” traversed Beaufort from end to end.