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Updated: May 14, 2025
That was the hardest to bear and the saddest result of the catastrophe. Until the ruins around Elmvale were searched and the last body brought to light, little was said about the cause of the disaster.
The immense mass of waiter held in leash would immediately pour through the opening. The valley would be flooded! As the car plunged across the main street of Elmvale people were running out of their houses and out of the stores, shrieking that the dam had burst. They began to stream away toward the higher ground, stopping for none of their possessions.
In this particular case he wished to know why the man called Blake had tried to hide himself in the clump of bushes beside the Upper Road when the automobile load of boys had come along and caught him examining the face of the Elmvale Dam through a field-glass.
Linder, or Blake as he was known at Elmvale, had naturally got well away from the neighborhood of the dam after it was blown up. That he was on this island at the present time was not so likely; but that he had been here, and in this cabin, was very possible. Perhaps had the castaways from the wrecked yawl arrived a few hours before at the cabin of Mag they might have seen the German spy.
"Yes, we'll go back," Whistler agreed. "Drive slowly, Torry. Maybe we can help somebody. I'm afraid there were some people who did not get away in time." They found enough to do, it was true, all that night. After getting back to the outskirts of Elmvale they could not drive the machine over the slime and mud in the roadway.
When it struck the big mill buildings at Elmvale the foamy water sprang up in geysers. Several of the big buildings went down under the impact of the flood. The smaller hovels were swept off their foundations. Those people who had not escaped from the middle of the village must be overcome by the sweep of the flood.
He held the paper under the edge of the table and saw almost instantly what the communication was and to whom it was addressed. "That's the name of that spy you boys say blew up the Elmvale dam, and was out on that oil tender we chased in the submarine patrol boat, isn't it?" whispered the ensign. "I declare! Did you find it here?" "Yes, sir. You see, the edge of the paper is browned.
It's the man we saw in the bushes up there by the Elmvale Dam the other day. Remember, Al?" "Gee! Yes!" breathed Torry. "They told me his name was Blake. He doesn't look it," said Whistler earnestly. "He looks more like a German than Hansie Hertig and that's enough!" "Aw " "Of course, he can't help that," agreed Whistler before Torrance could voice objection. "But he is a stranger in Elmvale.
"Accuse him of being in disguise because he wears that beard?" and he chuckled. But to Whistler Morgan's mind it was no laughing matter. He was silent all the way to Seacove. Torry suggested that they stay on the train to Elmvale and see if Blake got off at that station. "No," his friend said decidedly, "we can't do that. Our folks will be worried about us if we don't report soon.
He knew where the telephone was, the girl at central quickly gave him the connection. A man answered the call. "Is this Mr. Santley?" Whistler asked. "It is. Who are you?" Morgan told him who he was and asked if he could see the manager if he drove right over to Elmvale in his friend's car. "What for?"
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