Bert Wilson's Twin Cylinder Racer

Brok

was still shrouded in darkness, he woke suddenly and s

e bunk. His sleepy brain cleared, and the events of the day before-the storm-the deserted cabin-came back to him. He struck a match and glanced at his watch. It was a littl

t of sleep. But this time it had been with a jump. He told himself that it was probably due to his unusual surroundings, and again tried to pin himself down to his schedule. But a vague sense of uneasiness would not vanish at hi

ave unstirred a duller mind rang in his consciousness like an alarm bell. He recalled how, at Panama, not long ago, he had been impressed by the same

the old tattered blanket, hurried himself int

in the East, he could see the gray fingers of the dawn. In the dimness, he looked about him, and, as his eyes became accustomed to the

he stood on the brink of a gigantic dam. Then he knew what was

as feeders to the lake. Great tree trunks, tossed in the boiling waters, had been jammed against the edge, increasing the pressure, already great. Over the b

ight before had probably developed into a cloudburst farther up in the mountains, and the floods that came down in consequence were putting it to a strain that had not been counted upon when the dam was built. It was none too s

houses in the town. Human beings were sleeping there, serene and confident, men, women and children, babes in their mo

there was a great bulge in the central part, and a deluge burst through. Two of the capstones yielded and fell, with a nois

behind him added wings to his feet. He burst open the door, dragged out the "Blue Str

, a dozen feet in advance. But he felt nothing, thought of nothing but the unconscious sleepers who mu

, he passed farmers already at work in the fields. He blew his horn and yelled at these and po

at the monster had broken its bonds and was abroad seeking for prey. He let out the last ounce of power that

extraordinary occasions. It wailed out in a wild, weird shriek that spok

at the windows while half-dressed men ran out of the door

broken. Run f

g with fearful velocity. No more need of his siren. That h

y safe. It was unlikely that the water would reach them, or, at any rate, they could climb still higher up and escape, even if their houses were washed away. But there was no hope for the buildings

alley. A great foaming wall of yellow water, forty feet high, bearing on its crest gigantic tree trunks and the

the men, the screams of the women, the wailing of little children roused suddenly from sleep. From every door they poured forth,

ing children holding to her skirts. He grabbed the little ones up and with a tousled little head under each arm placed them in safety. A crippled boy, hobbling painfully along on crutches, felt himself suddenly

were picked up and carried along like straws. Brick structures were sm

t seemed ages of agony, he found himself on the surface, striking out blindly in that churning mass of water that carried him along as though in a mill race. He had never before realized the tremendous power of water. He was a mere chip tossed hither and thither upon the waves. His head was dizzy

an expert swimmer, and knew that if he kept his senses he would not drown. His most imminent danger lay in being struck by a tree trunk

ng to some floating object. Once the body of a man was carried past within a few feet of him. His last conscious glance before the flood overwhelmed him had shown him a number who had not yet reached the higher ground. These had been

ot far off, a horse was swimming and gallantly trying to keep his head above water. His fear-distended eyes fell on Bert, and he whinn

part of the valley, and, ahead of him, the ground began to rise. With every foot of

, and in the meeting of the two opposing forces a terrific whirlpool would be generated, in wh

unks that dashed over the spot where he had been a moment before. Once he barely escaped being caught between two houses. But his quick eye and quicker mind stood him in good stead, at this hour of his greatest need. His lungs were laboring ready to burst and his muscles were strained almost to the breaking point. But his long powerful strokes brought him steadily nearer to the eastern bank and he steered straight for a

then rushed back. The receding current met the other still advancing. Like giant wrestlers, they locked in a fierce embrace, and the waves shot up for thirty feet. Great

nd leg felt as though it weighed a ton. But he had never incurred pain or danger in a worthier cause, and he rejoiced at the chance that had impelled him to

ould have utterly collapsed under the strain. But soon his heart resumed its normal rhythm, the blood coursed more s

ey and from where he stood looking back, he could not see more than a mile before a bend in the road cut off his view. But the stream itself was sufficient guide as he retraced his steps, and

hrew a glance at the sun which was only a little above the horizon, and concluded that it was not much more than six o'clock. Scarcely more than

n compelled to stand by, a helpless spectator, and see a whole community wiped out of existence. And t

. Good old "Blue Streak!" Once more it had proved a tried and trusty comrade, responding to every

d of wheels, and a team came up behind him. The man who was driving told Bert to

umb, moving as though in a dream, their minds paralyzed by the shock. They needed everything, food and tents and medicines and doctors and nurses. The telegraph and telephone service was ou

ing too much on the disaster. But no horse could get to the world without as quickly as he on his motorcycle. He waited only long enough to learn the shortest route to the next town of any size. Then he rushed to the thicket on the hillside where he had left

minutes was the center of an excited group in the telegraph office, to which he at once repaired. Soon the wires were humming, and within a short time the entire country, from Maine to California, was stirred to the depths by the news of the ca

its dreadful warning. The reporters, avid of sensation, listened eagerly, and embroidered upon the story some fanciful embellishments of their own. They did their utmost to discover the name of the rider who had come racing through the mists of that early morning, but failed. The only one who could tell the truth about it never did. Except to a few of his intimates, and that under the pledge of secrecy, Bert locked the story in h

t he was ravenously hungry. As soon as he could shake himself loose from the crowd that had listened breathlessly to his story, he went to the hotel and ordered an abundant breakfast. When he had finished, he was once more his normal self. He replenis

out, and, though still a little heavy, had lost their clinging quality. In a few hours, he flashed into Charleston, where his ears were greeted by the cries of the newsboys, calling out the extras issued on account of the flood. Staying only long enough to report his time

through. Now the reaction had set in. An immense weariness weighed him down and every separate muscle had its own distinctive ache. But his mind was at peace. He had fought a good fight. A supreme emerge