The flood was constantly widening its sweep as it sought out new places for invasion. There was a perceptible current nearly everywhere, though, of course, it was fiercest in the original river bed, where the sweeping waters met with no obstructions to their progress, now that the passenger bridge had been carried off.
Hugh immediately turned toward the lower part of the town. They could see some people along the shore waving to them and shouting, but what they said none of those aboard the motorboat understood, nor could they take the time to try and find out.
Hugh was very careful how he steered his boat, for there were snags to be met with, and should they strike one while going at such speed, it might prove the finish of the Idler, as the boat was named.
They could see that there was a considerable bustle about this section of the town. The poor folks living here were doing all in their limited power to save some of their scanty but nevertheless precious belongings. They were wading hip deep in the cold water in some cases, bearing beds, clothes, and one even had a small cook stove thus elevated.
Others were trying to make excuses for rafts out of any stray pieces of lumber they could get their hands on. In most cases these were so flimsily patched together that there was a strong likelihood of their parting as soon as any sort of a load had been placed on them.
“Yap-yap-yap!”
“Hello! that sounds like the Otter signal!” exclaimed Billy Worth, pricking up his ears; “I’ve heard Alec Sands and Buck Winter give it many a time. But we’re in Lawrence, not Oakvale, it happens.”
“But they may have had an Otter Patrol in their troop; how about that, Tip?” remarked Hugh, still guiding the launch with the dexterous hand of a born pilot, and at the same time keeping one eye on the throbbing motor.
“To be sure we have, and Wash Bradford is the leader of the Otters,” came the prompt reply. “There’s a boat right now; and yes, that’s Wash himself loading it with some household stuff the others are passing out of that window to him.”
“He’s beckoning to us,” said Stallings. “You can work in closer to them, can’t you, Hugh? It might be he wants to put us wise to something of importance.”