The blast-lamp flung its glare upon the engine and the rays of the powerful head-light drove horizontally into the dark, but the space beyond the broken end of the dam was kept in shadow by the block, and the glitter above dazzled his eyes.
“Swing the derrick-boom and tell the engineer to come on a yard or two,” he said.
There was a patter of feet, a rattle of chains, and somebody called: “Adelante locomotura!”
The engine snorted, the wheels ground through the fragments of concrete scattered about the line, and the big dark mass rolled slowly forward. It seemed to Dick to be going farther than it ought, but he had ascertained that the guard-rail was securely fastened. As he watched the front of the truck, Jake, who stood a few feet to one side, leaned out and seized his shoulder.
“Jump!” he cried, pulling him forward.
Dick made an awkward leap, and alighting on the steep front of the dam, fell heavily on his side. As he clutched the stones to save himself from sliding down, a black mass plunged from the line above and there was a deafening crash as it struck the spot he had left. Then a shower of fragments fell upon him and he choked amidst a cloud of dust. Hoarse shouts broke out above, and he heard men running about the dam as he got up, half dazed.
“Are you all right, Jake?” he asked.
“Not a scratch,” was the answer; and Dick, scrambling up the bank, called for a lamp.
It was brought by a big mulatto, and Dick held up the light. The last-fitted block of the ribbed course was split in two, and the one that had fallen was scattered about in massive broken lumps. Amidst these lay the guard-rail, and the front wheels of the truck hung across the gap above. There was other damage, and Dick frowned as he looked about.
“We’ll be lucky if we get the broken molding out in a day, and I expect we’ll have to replace two of the lower blocks,” he said. “It’s going to be an awkward and expensive job now that the cement has set.”