'All right, Jimmy. Jimmy can help play with the carpet,' Rhoda answered, as Midmore went forth into the darkness and the roarings all round. He had never seen such an utterly unregulated state of affairs. There was another lantern reflected on the streaming drive.
'Hi! Rhoda! Did you get my note? I came down to make sure. I thought, afterwards, Jimmy might funk the water!'
'It's me—Miss Sperrit,' Midmore cried. 'Yes, we got it, thanks.'
'You're back, then. Oh, good! . . . Is it bad down with you?'
'I'm going to Sidney's to have a look.'
'You won't get him out. 'Lucky I met Bob Lotten. I told him he hadn't any business impounding water for his idiotic trout without rebuilding the dam.'
'How far up is it? I've only been there once.'
'Not more than four miles as the water will come. He says he's opened all the sluices.'
She had turned and fallen into step beside him, her hooded head bowed against the thinning rain. As usual she was humming to herself.
'Why on earth did you come out in this weather?' Midmore asked.
'It was worse when you were in town. The rain's taking off now. If it wasn't for that pond, I wouldn't worry so much. There's Sidney's bell. Come on!' She broke into a run. A cracked bell was jangling feebly down the valley.
'Keep on the road!' Midmore shouted. The
