savagely.

"Now we can't depend on anything. We'd better clear all hands out of the
riverbed."

Again the big gong beat, and a second time there was the rushing of
naked feet on earth and ringing iron; the clatter of tools ceased. In
the silence, men heard the dry yawn of water crawling over thirsty sand.

Foreman after foreman shouted to Findlayson, who had posted himself by
the guard-tower, that his section of the river-bed had been cleaned out,
and when the last voice dropped Findlayson hurried over the bridge
till the iron plating of the permanent way gave place to the temporary
plank-walk over the three centre piers, and there he met Hitchcock.

"'All clear your side?" said Findlayson. The whisper rang in the box of
lattice work.

"Yes, and the east channel's filling now. We're utterly out of our
reckoning. When is this thing down on us?"

"There's no saying. She's filling as fast as she can. Look!" Findlayson
pointed to the planks below his feet, where the sand, burned and defiled
by months of work, was beginning to whisper and fizz.

"What orders?" said Hitchcock.

"Call the roll--count stores sit on your hunkers--and pray for the
bridge. That's all I can think of Good night. Don't risk your life
trying to fish out anything that may go downstream."