The shores were about twenty feet
apart.
"Suppose the spanners break when you're halfway over,
Tom?" asked his chum.
"I don't like to suppose anything of the sort. But if they
do, we're going down!"
"Can you get up again?"
"That remains to be seen," was the non-committal reply.
"Well, here goes, anyhow!"
Going up into the observation tower, which was only
slightly raised above the roof of the highest part of the
tank, Tom gave the signal for the motors to start. There was
a trembling throughout the whole of the vast structure. Tom
threw back a lever and Ned, peering from a side observation
slot, beheld a strange sight.
Like the main arm of some great steam shovel, two long,
latticed girders of steel shot out from the sides of the
tank. They gave a half turn, as they were pulled forward by
the steel ropes, so that they lay with their broader
surfaces uppermost.
Straight across the stream they were pulled, their
clawlike ends coming to a rest on the opposite bank. Then
they were tightened into place by a backward pull on the
operating cables, and Tom, with a sigh of relief, announced:
"Well, so far so good!"
"Do we go over now?" inquired Ned.
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