XVI
A DRAMATIC FLAGGING
Since shortly following Jack Orr’s appointment to Midway Junction Alex had been “agitating,” as he called it, for his friend’s transfer to the telegraph force at the division terminal. At length, early in the fall, Alex’s efforts bore fruit, and Jack was offered, and accepted, the “night trick” at one of the big yard towers at Exeter.
Of course the two chums were now always together. And the day of the big flood that October was no exception to the rule. All afternoon the two boys had wandered up and down the swollen river, watching the brown whirling waters, almost bank high, and the trees, fences, even occasional farm buildings, which swept by from above. When six o’clock came they reluctantly left it for supper, and the night’s duties.
“Well, what do you think of the river, Ward?” inquired the chief night despatcher as Alex entered the despatching-room.
“It looks rather bad, sir, doesn’t it. Do you think the bridge is quite safe?”
“Quite. It has been through several worse floods than this. It’s as strong as the hills,” the despatcher affirmed.
Despite the chief’s confidence, however, when about 5 o’clock in the morning there came reports of a second cloud-burst up the river, he requested Alex to call up Jack, at the yard tower which overlooked the bridge, and ask him to keep them posted.