Ted and the Telephone by Sara Ware Bassett
CHAPTER XVI
ANOTHER CALAMITY
The winter was a long and tedious one with much cold weather and ice.Great drifts leveled the fields about Aldercliffe and Pine Lea,shrouding the vast expanse of fields along the river in a glisteningcloak of ermine spangled with gold. The stream itself was buried sodeep beneath the snow that it was difficult not to believe it haddisappeared altogether. Freeman's Falls had never known a more severeseason and among the mill employees there was much illness anddepression. Prices were high, business slack, and the work ran light.Nevertheless, the Fernalds refused to shorten the hours. There were nonight shifts on duty, to be sure, but the hum of the machinery thatceased at twilight resumed its buzzing every morning and by its musicgladdened many a home where anxiety might otherwise have reigned.
That the factories were being operated at a loss rather than throw themen out of employment Ted Turner could not help knowing for since hehad become a member of the Fernald household he had been included sointimately in the family circle that it was unavoidable he should becognizant of much that went on there. As a result, an entirely newaspect of manufacture came before him. Up to this time he had seen butone side of the picture, that with which the working man was familiar.But now the capitalist's side was turned toward him and on confrontingits many intricate phases he gained a very different conception of themill-owner's conundrums. He learned now for the first time who it wasthat tided over business in its seasons of stress and advanced themoney that kept bread in the mouths of the workers. He sensed, too, ashe might never have done otherwise, who shouldered the burden of carenot alone during working hours but outside of them; he glimpsedsomething of the struggles of competition; the problems of securing rawmaterial; the work concerning credits.
A very novel viewpoint it was to the boy, and as he regarded thecomplicated web, he found himself wondering how much of all this tanglewas known to the men, and whether they were always fair to theiremployer. He had frequently overheard conversations at his father'swhen they had proclaimed how easy and care-free a life the rich led,and while they had envied and criticized and slandered the Fernalds andasserted that they did nothing but enjoy themselves, he had listened.Ah, how far from the truth this estimate had been! He speculated, as hereviewed the facts and vaguely rehearsed the capitalist's enigmaswhether, if shown the actual conditions, the townsfolk would have beenwilling to exchange places with either of these men whose fortunes theyso greedily coveted.
For in very truth the Fernalds seemed to Ted persons to be pitied farmore than envied. Stripped of illusions, what was Mr. Lawrence Fernaldbut an old man who had devoted himself to money-making until he hadrolled up a fortune so large that its management left him no leisure toenjoy it? Eager to accumulate more and ever more wealth, he toiled andworried quite as hard as he would have done had he had no money at all;he often passed sleepless nights and could never be persuaded to take aday away from his office. He slaved harder than any of those he paid towork for him and he had none of their respite from care.
Mr. Clarence Fernald, being of a younger generation, had perhapslearned greater wisdom. At any rate, he went away twice a year forextended pleasure trips. Possibly the fact that his father haddegenerated into a mere money-making machine was ever before him,serving as a warning against a similar fate. However that may havebeen, he did break resolutely away from business at intervals, or triedto. Nevertheless, he never could contrive to be wholly free. Telegramspursued him wherever he went; his secretary often went in search ofhim; and many a time, like a defeated runaway whose escape is cutshort, he was compelled to abandon his holiday and return to the mills,there to straighten out some unlooked-for complication. Day and nightthe responsibilities of his position, the welfare of the hundreds ofpersons dependent on him, weighed down his shoulders. And even when hewas at home in the bosom of his family, there was Laurie, his son, hisidol, who could probably never be well! What man in all Freeman's Fallscould have envied him if acquainted with all the conditions of hislife?
This and many another such reflection engrossed Ted, causing him towonder whether there was not in the divine plan a certain element ofequalization.
In the meantime, his lessons with Laurie and Mr. Hazen went steadilyand delightfully on. How much more could be accomplished with a tutorwho devoted all his time simply to two pupils! And how much greaterpleasure one derived from studying under these intimate circumstances!In every way the arrangement was ideal. Thus the winter passed with itsbalancing factors of work and play. The friendship between the two boysstrengthened daily and in a similar proportion Ted's affection for theentire Fernald family increased.
It was when the first thaw made its appearance late in March thattrouble came. Laurie was stricken with measles, and because of thecontagion, Ted's little shack near the river was hastily equipped foroccupancy, and the lad was transferred there.
"I can't have two boys sick," declared Mr. Clarence Fernald, "and asyou have not been exposed to the disease there is no sense in ourthrusting you into its midst. Plenty of wood will keep your fireplaceblazing and as the weather is comparatively mild I fancy you cancontrive to be comfortable. We will connect the telephone so you won'tbe lonely and so you can talk with Laurie every day. The doctor says hewill soon be well again and after the house has been fumigated you cancome back to Pine Lea."
Accordingly, Ted was once more ensconced in the little hut and how goodit seemed to be again in that familiar haunt only he realized. Beforethe first day was over, he felt as if he had never been away. Pine Leamight boast its conservatories, its sun parlors, its tiled baths, itsluxuries of every sort; they all faded into nothingness beside thefreedom and peace of the tiny shack at the river's margin.
Meanwhile, with the gradual approach of spring, the sun mounted higherand the great snow drifts settled and began to disappear. Already theice in the stream was breaking up and the turbid yellow waters wentrushing along, carrying with them whirling blocks of snow. As thetorrent swept past, it flooded the meadows and piled up against the damopposite the factories great frozen, jagged masses of ice which groundand crashed against one another, so that the sounds could be distinctlyheard within the mills. At some points these miniature icebergs blockedthe falls and held the waters in check until, instead of cascading overthe dam, they spread inland, inundating the shores. The float beforeTed's door was covered and at night, when all was still and his windowsopen, he could hear the roaring of the stream, and the impact of thebumping ice as it sped along. Daily, as the snows on the far distanthillsides near the river's source melted, the flood increased andpoured down in an ever rising tide its seething waters.
Yet notwithstanding the fact that each day saw the stream higher, noone experienced any actual anxiety from the conditions, althougheverybody granted they were abnormal. Of course, there was more ice inthe river than there had been for many years. Even Grandfather Fernald,who had lived in the vicinity for close on to half a century, could notrecall ever having witnessed such a spring freshet; nor did he denythat the weight of ice and water against the dam must be tremendous.However, the structure was strong and there was no question of itsability to hold, even though this chaos of grinding ice-cakes boomedagainst it with defiant reverberation.
In spite of the conditions, Ted felt no nervousness about remaining byhimself in the shack and perhaps every premonition of evil might haveescaped him had he not been awakened one morning very early by a rippleof lapping water that seemed near at hand. Sleepily he opened his eyesand looked about him. The floor of the hut was wet and through thecrack beneath the door a thread of muddy water was steadily seeping. Inan instant he was on his feet and as he stood looking about him inbewilderment he heard the roar of the river and detected in the sound athreatening intonation that had not been there on the previous day. Hehurried to the window and stared out into the grayness of the dawn. Thescene that confronted him chilled his blood. The river had risenunbelievably during the night. Not only were the little bushes alongthe shore entirely
As he threw on his clothes, he tried to decide whether there wasanything he ought to do. Would it be well to call up the Fernalds, ortelephone to the mills, or to the village, and give warning of theconditions? It was barely four o'clock and the first streaks of lightwere but just appearing. Nevertheless, there must be persons who wereawake and as alert as he to the transformation the darkness hadwrought. Moreover, perhaps there was no actual danger, and should thisprove to be the case, how absurd he would feel to arouse people atdaybreak for a mere nothing. It was while he paused there indecisivelythat a sight met his eye which spurred hesitancy to immediate action.Around the bend far up the stream came sweeping a tangle ofwreckage--trees, and brush, and floating timber--and swirling along inits wake was a small lean-to which he recognized as one that had stoodon the bank of the river at Melton, the village located five milesabove Freeman's Falls. If the water were high enough to carry away thisbuilding, it must indeed have risen to a menacing height and there wasnot a moment to be lost.
He rushed to the telephone and called up Mr. Clarence Fernald whoreplied to his summons in irritable, half-dazed fashion.
"Is there any way of lifting the water gates at the mills?" asked Tedbreathlessly. "The river has risen so high that it is sweeping awaytrees and even some of the smaller houses from the Melton shore. If thedebris piles up against the dam, the pressure may be more than thething can stand. Besides, the water will spread and flood bothAldercliffe and Pine Lea. I thought I'd better tell you."
Mr. Fernald was not dazed now; he was broad awake.
"Where are you?" inquired he sharply.
"At the shack, sir. The water is ankle deep."
"Don't stay there another moment. It is not safe. At any instant thewhole hut may be carried away. Gather your traps together and callWharton or Stevens--or both of them--to come and help you take them upto Aldercliffe. I'll attend to notifying the mills. You've done us agood turn, my boy."
During the next hour Ted himself was too busy to appreciate the hecticrush of events that he had set moving, or realize the feverish energywith which the Fernalds and their employees worked to avert a tragedywhich, but for his warning, might have been a very terrible one. Themills were reached by wire and the sluices at the sides of the centraldam immediately lifted to make way for the torrent of snow, ice,wreckage, and water. In what a fierce and maddened chaos it surged overthe falls and dashed into the chasm beneath! All day the mighty currentboiled and seethed, overflowing the outlying fields with its yellowflood. Nevertheless, the great brick factories that bordered the streamstood firm and so did the residences at Aldercliffe and Pine Lea, bothof which were fortunately situated on high ground.
Ted had not made his escape from his little camp a moment too soon, forwhile he stood looking out on the freshet from one of the attic windowsat Pine Lea, he shivered to behold his little hut bob past him amid therushing waters and drift into an eddy on the opposite shore along witha mass of uprooted pines.
A sob burst from him.
"It's gone, Mr. Hazen--our little house!" he murmured brokenly to theyoung tutor who was standing beside him. "We never shall see it again."
"You mustn't take it so to heart, Ted," the teacher answered, layinghis hand sympathetically on the lad's shoulder. "Suppose you had beenin it and borne away to almost certain death. That would have been acalamity indeed. What is an empty boathouse when we consider how manypeople are to suffer actual financial loss and perhaps forfeiteverything they have, as a result of this tragedy. The villagers wholive along the river will lose practically everything they own--boats,poultry, barns; and many of them both houses and furniture. We allloved the shack; but it is not as if its destruction left you with noother roof above your head. You can stay at Aldercliffe, Pine Lea, orjoin your family at Freeman's Falls. Three shelters are open to you.But these poor souls in the town----"
"I had not thought about the villagers," blushed Ted.
"The Fernalds have been in the settlement since dawn and along withevery man they could summon have been working to save life andproperty. If I had not had to stay here with Laurie, I should have goneto help, too."
Ted hung his head.
"I'm ashamed to have been so selfish," said he. "Instead of thinkingonly of myself, I ought to have been lending a hand to aid somebodyelse. It was rotten of me. Why can't I go down to the village now?There must be things I can do. Certainly I'm no use here."
"No, there is nothing to be done here," the tutor agreed. "If you couldstay with Laurie and calm him down there would be some sense in yourremaining; but as it is, I don't see why you shouldn't go along to thetown and fill in wherever you can. I fancy there will be plenty to do.The Fernalds, Wharton, Stevens, and the rest of the men are moving thefamilies who lived along the water front out of their houses and intoothers. All our trucks and cars are busy at the job."
"I know I could help," cried Ted eagerly, his foot on the top step ofthe staircase.
"I am sure you can," Mr. Hazen replied. "Already by your timely warningyou have helped more than you will ever know. I tremble to think whatmight have happened if you had not awakened Mr. Clarence just when youdid. Had the dam at the mills gone down, the whole town would have beendevastated. Mr. Fernald told me so himself."
"I'm mighty glad if I----"
"So you see you have been far from selfish," continued the tutor, in acheery tone. "As for the shack, it can be rebuilt, so I should notmourn about that."
"I guess Mr. Fernald is glad now that he has his plans ready for hismodel village."
"Yes, he is. He said right away that it was providential. The snow willdisappear after this thaw and as soon as the earth dries up enough toadmit of building, the workmen will begin to break ground for the newsettlement. The prospect of other and better houses than the old oneswill encourage many of the mill people who have had their dwellingsruined to-day and in consequence been forced to move into temporaryquarters where they are crowded and uncomfortable. We can all endureinconvenience when we know it is not to last indefinitely. Mr. Fernaldtold me over the telephone that the promise of new houses by summer orfall at the latest was buoying up the courage of all those who hadsuffered from this terrible disaster. He is going to grant specialprivileges to every family that has met with loss. They are to be giventhe first houses that are finished."
"I do hope another freshet like this one won't sweep away the newvillage," reflected Ted.
"Oh, we shall probably never again be treated to an excitement similarto this one," smiled Mr. Hazen reassuringly. "Didn't you hear them saythat it was the bursting of the Melton reservoir which was largelyresponsible for this catastrophe? Mr. Fernald declared all along thatthis was no ordinary freshet. He has seen the river every spring fornearly forty years and watched it through all its annual thaws; andalthough it has often been high, it has never been a danger to thecommunity. He told me over the telephone about the reservoir bursting.He had just got the news. It seems the reservoir above Melton was anold one which the authorities have realized for some time must berebuilt. They let it go one year too long. With the weight of water,snow, and ice, it could not bear the pressure put upon it andcollapsed. I'm afraid it has been a severe lesson to the officials ofthe place for the chance they took has caused terrible damage."
"Were people killed?" asked Ted in an awed whisper.
"We have heard so--two or three who were trapped asleep in theirhouses. As for the town, practically all the buildings that fronted theriver were destroyed. Of course, as yet we have not been able to getvery satisfactory details, for most of the wires were down andcommunication was pretty well cut off. I suppose that is why they didnot notify us of our peril. People were probably too busy with theirown affairs, too intent on saving their own lives and possessions tothink of anything else. Then, too, the thing came suddenly. If therehadn't been somebody awake here, I don't know where we should havebeen. I don't see how you happened to be astir
"Nor I," returned Ted modestly. "I think it must have been the sound ofthe water coming in that woke me. I just happened to hear it."
"Well, it was an almighty fortunate happen--that is all I can say,"asserted Mr. Hazen, as the boy sped down the stairs.