“I’m afraid the water has already weakened the piers, and if that’s the case, it is bound to affect the span,” Hugh explained. “Whatever can the police of this place be thinking of, allowing foolish people to gather on a shaky bridge like that? It might topple over at any minute, and there would be a whole lot of drownings.”
“Hugh, if this was happening over at our town, I warrant you the scouts would have something to say before now about that same thing. Chances are you’d have a bunch of them at work keeping every living soul off the bridge, and guarding the approaches, so if it did go down, no one would be lost. It gives me a cold shiver just to look at all those sillies out there. Not only boys, but girls, and men as well. Why, Hugh, I can see several little tots there that ought to be tied to their mothers’ apron strings, instead of being let roam around.”
The patrol leader seemed to be just as deeply affected as Billy.
“We are scouts, we must remember, Billy; and it’s our duty to save life every time the chance comes to us,” he said, very soberly. “We’re strangers here in Lawrence, but right now I can see a number of fellows wearing khaki. Suppose we take a notion to round them up and tell them it’s their solemn duty to get busy?”
“Hugh, count on me to back you up in anything. By hook or crook, we ought to clear that shaky bridge before some big tree comes floating along to knock it so hard that it’ll go down.”
Once they had made up their minds to attempt an enterprise, the two chums never “let the grass grow under their feet” until they had done everything in their power toward accomplishing the object they had in view. And when that consisted of trying to save human life, Hugh Hardin was ready to exert himself to the utmost, regardless of his personal sacrifices.
Accordingly he and Billy started to find a couple of the wearers of the khaki suits who would be likely to listen to their bold proposition.
CHAPTER III.
ON THE TOTTERING BRIDGE.
There must have been a couple of hundred people, men, women, and children, watching the raging torrent sweep past. A flood possesses some sort of wonderful fascination over most persons, who will stand and gaze and even shudder, yet be unwilling to turn away.
New things were apt to happen at any time, as the water crept higher and higher, with the worst still to come. Upon the heaving bosom of the raging river, queer floating objects were to be discovered. Loud shouts, for instance, greeted the appearance of a hen-coop with a couple of terrified fowls perched on its roof; and great was the glee of the thoughtless onlookers when, at the crash of this strange craft against the bridge, the chickens with loud squawks flew to safety, and were pursued and caught by some of the younger lads.