Adam scratched several matches before he got the broom well
ignited, then he held it high, and by its light found the end of
the bridge. Kate called to him to stop and plunging and splashing
through mud and water, she reached the bridge before the broom
burned out. There she clung to the railing she had insisted upon,
and felt her way across to the boy. His thin cotton night shirt
was plastered to his sturdy little body. As she touched him Kate
lifted him in her arms, and almost hugged the life from him.
"You big man!" she said. "You could help Mother! Good for you!"
"Is the dam gone?" he asked.
"Part of it," said Kate, sliding her feet before her, as she waded
toward Polly in the doorway.
"Did Father shut the sluice-gate, to hear the roar?"
Kate hesitated. The shivering body in her arms felt so small to
her.
"I 'spect he did," said Adam. "All day he was fussing after you
stopped the roar." Then he added casually: "The old fool ought-a
known better. I 'spect he was drunk again!"
"Oh, Adam!" cried Kate, setting him on the porch. "Oh, Adam!
What makes you say that?"
"Oh, all of them at school say that," scoffed Adam. "Everybody
knows it but you, don't they, Polly?"
"Sure!" said Polly. "Most every night; but don't you mind,
Mother, Adam and I will take care of you."
Kate fell on her knees and gathered both of them in a crushing hug
for an instant; then she helped them into to dry nightgowns and to
bed. As she covered them she stooped and kissed each of them
before she went to warm and put on dry clothes, and dry her hair.
It was almost dawn when she walked to George Holt's door and
looked in at him lying stretched in deep sleep.
"You may thank your God for your children," she said. "If it
hadn't been for them, I know what I would have done to you."
Then she went to her room and lay down to rest until dawn. She
was up at the usual time and had breakfast ready for the children.
As they were starting to school George came into the room.
"Mother," said Polly, "there is a lot of folks over around the
dam. What shall we tell them?"
Kate's heart stopped. She had heard that question before.
"Tell them the truth," said Adam scornfully, before Kate could
answer. "Tell them that Mother opened the sluiceway to save the
dam and Father shut it to hear it roar, and it busted!"
"Shall I, Mother?" asked Polly.
A slow whiteness spread over George's face; he stared down the
hall to look.
"Tell them exactly what you please," said Kate, "only you watch
yourself like a hawk. If you tell one word not the way it was, or
in any way different from what happened, I'll punish you
severely."