Hurry!" ordered Tom.
Willy flashed away.

Tom paused only for an instant to listen and estimate how much time they had before the flood would be upon them.
"Are you game for it, Hippy ?" he demanded.
"For what ?" "To help me get the gates up ?" "Yes." "Come on then, and watch your footing," shouted Tom, running out on the top log that formed the cap on top of the spiles.

The footing was slippery, but not ordinarily perilous.

Now, in the face of that which was hurtling down upon them, their undertaking was a desperate one.
Neither had on his spiked boots, which, in a measure, would have aided them in keeping their footing, and they slipped and stumbled, and sprawled on all fours again and again.
Being so familiar with the operation of the gates that they had planned and built, they had no difficulty in finding the gate-levers, but these were heavy, necessarily so, operating somewhat after the manner of a sweep in an old-fashioned well.
Tom and Hippy threw themselves upon one of the two big levers that operated the gates, and began tugging with all their strength.

In the meantime Willy Horse had reached the lumberjacks' bunk-house.
"Dam go out! Water come down!" he shouted to make himself heard.