“She's pretty near the water line, that's right,” admitted Carpenter.
“I should think that might make the boys hot,” commented Hamilton. “If they'd known this was coming, they needn't have hustled so to get the drive down.
“That's so,” Wallace agreed.
About an hour later the younger man in his turn made a discovery.
“She's been rising right along,” he submitted. “Your marks are nearer the water, and, do you know, I believe the logs are beginning to feel it. See, they've closed up the little openings between them, and they are beginning to crowd down to the lower end of the pond.”
“I don't know anything about this business,” hazarded the journalist, “but by the mere look of the thing I should think there was a good deal of pressure on that same lower end. By Jove, look there! See those logs up-end? I believe you're going to have a jam right here in your own booms!”
“I don't know,” hesitated Wallace, “I never heard of its happening.”
“You'd better let someone know.”
“I hate to bother Harry or any of the rivermen. I'll just step down to the mill. Mason—he's our mill foreman—he'll know.”
Mason came to the edge of the high trestle and took one look.