basket. It was Jasper Parloe, and the old man was shaking as with
palsy.

"My goodness gracious!" he croaked, falling back in the seat as the
car darted away again. "Ain't this awful? Ain't this jest awful?"

He was too scared, one would have supposed, to think of much else than
the peril of the flood sweeping the valley behind them; yet he stared
up at Tom Cameron again and again as the auto hurried them on toward
the safety of the higher ground about the Red Mill, and there was
something very sly in his look.

"Ye warn't hurt so bad then, arter all, was ye, Master Cameron?" he
croaked.

"I reckon I shall live to get over it," returned the boy, shortly.

"But no thanks to Jabe Potter-- heh? Ha! I know, I know!"

Tom stared in return angrily, but the old man kept shaking his head
and smiling up at him slily and in such a significant way that, had
the boy not been so disturbed by what was going on behind them, he
certainly would have demanded to know what the old fellow meant.

But the car was getting close to the long hill that mounted to the
crest on which the Red Mill stood. How much better would it have been
for Jabez Potter and all concerned had he taken Doctor Davison's
advice and let out the water behind his dam! But now he was not even
at home to do anything before the thousands upon thousands of tons of
water from the Minturn reservoir swept through the Red Mill dam.