“If you want to know, go ask him,” the man exclaimed at length. “I’m not going to stay around here. It’s bad enough if the dam breaks, let alone the dynamite going up!”
Then he started off on a run, while the reporters, with the exception of Mr. Newton, stood with pencils poised.
But it seemed that something was going on in the crowd down at the western end of the dam. There were men running to and fro, and preparations seemed to be under way for some undertaking.
As the reporters and others watched they saw a man run out on the broad coping on top of the dam. In his hands he carried a package which they guessed to be dynamite. He seemed to have no fear of the deep waters on one side of him or the big gully on the other, to which he might fall and be dashed to death on the rocks.
With a long rope, around which was a fuse, he lowered the explosive to the bottom of the big wall of masonry. The idea was to blow a hole in the rocks under it, and not to injure the dam itself, but to make a place where the water could escape, in addition to the regular exits. It was a task of peril and few would have liked to undertake it.
The crowd almost in breathless silence watched the man lower the powerful explosive to the bottom of the wall inch by inch. He seemed like a fly out there on the narrow coping of the dam, and likely to be swept to his death any minute.
Mr. Newton, who had learned the brave man’s name from a bystander, was busy writing a story about him which he intended to send to the paper. He was on a little hill where he could have a good view of the operation and yet be out of danger.
Suddenly the man raised his hand. It was a signal that the dynamite was in place and that he was about to touch off the fuse. Hundreds ran back, for, though they were in no danger, they imagined they were.
The man was seen to stoop over and strike a match. A little puff of smoke arose. The crowd watched to see him run back and regain solid ground. But, as it happened, the first match went out. He had to light another. This time he managed to kindle the fuse. A little puff of smoke arose on the damp air. The rain came down harder.
“It may put the fuse out,” said Mr. Newton.