Radio mirror (July-Dec 1946)

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MAILING LABELS At Stationery Department* Everywhere fjyj^ it would be closed until they returned, climbed into their old car, and drove through the mud and rain to the mill. The mill was in a turmoil when they arrived. Al Middleton had every man in the place loading sand-bags on top of the dam and along the sides. His face was perspiring and his voice was hoarse as he urged them on. "Can't talk to you now," he roared at Lum and Abner as they approached him, "too busy." So they back.ed away and looked for Harry. They found him coming in from a trip^ to the dam, his wet shirt sticking to his shoulders, his face grimy from sand and mud and rain. "Harry," called Lum as he walked toward them, "isn't it about time somethin' was done about that engine room?" Betty had joined them and listened anxiously as Harry replied, "It sure is. Those sand-bags are just a drop in the bucket. They won't hold the dam two minutes when the water gets up six inches higher— -and it's rising fast." "Well," said Abner, "how about the engine room?" "There's the boss over there," said Harry grimly, waving toward Al. "Please, Harry," pleaded Betty, "if that dam bursts, the whole town will be flooded." HARRY just jerked his thumb in Al Middleton's direction. "Maybe we better try talkin' to him again," suggested Lum, and they all walked over to Al. "Listen, Middleton," began Lum, "Harry says the only way to save the dam is to divert . . ." But Al interrupted him. "Can't you see I'm busy?" he shouted. "The only thing we can do is get more sand-bags out there. And we can do that quicker without you buttin' in." "It won't do any .good, Al," said Harry quietly. "Six more inches and that dam's a goner — sand-bags or no sand-bags." "I told you once to mind your own business," yelled Al. "But if that machinery could be made to work . . ." insisted Harry. A thick vein in Al's forehead stood out as he turned to Harry. "Who's the boss here, you or me?" he demanded hoarsely. "You learned to obey orders in the Army' didn't you, you stuffed shirt? Well, obey them. Get on back to that pile of sand-bags." He turned away from them, and began to shout once more to the men. Harry's jaw set and his lips tightened, but he didn't make a move, and there was a long moment of silence. Then in a small voice, Betty spoke. "It's not the mill I'm worried about. It's the town — all those people who live down there — the little children and the old people and the mothers and fathers. That water getting ready to break down the dam is sort of like the Germans were when the . war started — getting ready to break out and drown all the little innocent people who couldn't get out of their way . . . Isn't there any way to stop it?" "The Allies stopped the Germans," suggested Abner, almost as though he were saying it to himself, "and seems to me I've heard tell that when a Commander wasn't big enough for his job, he got replaced by somebody else. Ain't that right, Harry?" Harry looked at each one in turn, and he looked longest at Betty. Then he shook his head violently, as if to clear it. "Okay," he said finally, "I guess you're tight — all of you." Then, straightening his shoulders and taking a deep breath, he strode over to Al. Catching him by the shoulder, he spun him around. "Pull your rip-cord, Middleton," he said softly, "this is MayDay for yoii." With that, he hit Al squarely on the chin, with a blow that seemed to send a quiver all through the man's body. Al's head snapped back, and he slumped soundless to the floor. Harry looked wonderingly at his fist. "Attaboy, Harry," Lum told him quietly, "now all you got to do is get that machinery working." Harry flashed him a quick smile. Picking out a nearby bench, he walked over and jumped up on it. Then he raised his voice and shouted to the men. "Listen, fellows," he said when he'd gotten their attention. "There's only one way to keep the dam from bursting, and that's to divert the river into its old bed, a mile upstream. There's machinery in the engine room right here to do it with. It's in bad shape and maybe it won't work, but we've got about half an hour to try it. What do you say?" There was a stunned silence. Then a man called out, "What's Middleton say about it?" "Middleton isn't saying a word," Harry shouted back grimly. "I just knocked him out." More silence. Then came a long, low whistle from the back of the big room, and somebody laughed. That broke the tension. "Okay, Harry," came a voice, "what do we do first?" Harry's eyes gleamed and bright color rose into his face. Briskly he issued his orders, and quickly the men dispersed under his directions. "The engine room was the whole problem, of course, but the men who followed Harry into it knew their business. Wordlessly they settled to their task _of cleaning, oiling, filing, and scraping away the years' accumulation of dirt, grease and rust. Harry himself went to work adjusting the delicate starting mechanism that was to set off the heavier machinery. He found that the principle it operated on wasn't much different from that used in automobile or airplane engine's. TWENTY minutes passed before Harry straightened up. Lum and Abner, who stood with Betty by the wall, out of the way of the workmen, could see the tension in his face. "I've done everything I can to it," he said to the others. "You all set?" The men nodded in turn, making final adjustments and last-minute polishes at the now gleamingmachines. "Let's try her, then," said Harry, and grinned palely as he held up two crossed fingers. The men stood back and held their breaths as Harry pushed a button. Nothing happened. He reached over and twisted a wire, fastening it more securely. Then he pushed the button again. A sudden whir rang out in the hushed room. Then, almost as though a giant were waking up after years of death-like sleep, the engines shuddered and came to life. There was a sputter and then a hum. They were working! "The breakwater should be lifting right now," said Harry breathlessly, and watched a gauge that began to move slowly in the central engine. When the needle pointed straight up in the air, he pushed a lever and the engines stopped. Everybody just stood and waited, then. If it were a success, the river should now be pouring into its old bed — to lose itself harmlessly below the town and eventually: join the larger river of which it was a tributary!