“Well, it’s the opinion of them that’s been workin’ on it for the past two weeks. If we’d had money and enough help—”
“So that’s why you rooted me out of bed!”
“We came here to do you a favor!” one of the men retorted angrily. “It’s too late to save the dam unless nature sees fit to spare her. But it ain’t too late for you and your household to get out of here.”
“I have two hundred thousand dollars sunk in this place.”
“That’s a heap o’ money,” Silas said thoughtfully. “But it ain’t going to mean anything to you if that dam lets go. You ought to leave here without waitin’.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Mr. Burmaster said, pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. “It was my judgment that the dam would hold. Naturally no one could predict these heavy, unseasonable rains.”
A door opened. Everyone turned to see Mrs. Burmaster on the threshold. Her hair was uncombed and she wore a brilliant red housecoat.
“Who are these people?” she asked her husband in a cold voice.
“Villagers. They’ve come to warn us that we ought to leave here.”
“Warn us, indeed!” Mrs. Burmaster retorted bitterly. “I don’t know what they’ve said to you, but it’s just another scheme to get us away from here! Haven’t they tried everything?”