"Hello! Hello there! Wassa matter? Wassa matter?" demanded the voice of the old cowpuncher. "Where's everybody, anyhow? Nobody here but me!"
"We're over at the dam—Pocut River," called Bud into the instrument. "Say, Billee, something happened at my place last night. The water stopped, and we came over here to see where the stoppage was. But it's all right here. How about you there?"
"All serene here, Bud, all serene! Wait a minute and I'll take a look at your reservoir. I can see it from the tent where you got this talkin' contraption strung. You say the water stopped last night?"
"Stopped complete, Billee," Bud answered back over the wire.
"Well then, if there's any comin' over the spillway, now, it's a sign she's runnin' here ag'in, I take it!"
"Sure thing. But is she running?" asked Bud, anxiously.
"Wait a minute, an' I'll take a look. Hold on to that there wire!"
"I'll hold it!" promised Bud, smiling at his cousins.
There was a moment of anxious waiting and, in fancy, the boy ranchers could see Old Billee going to the tent flap and looking toward the reservoir.
"Hello, Bud!" presently came the call over the wire.