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Show page 180 on his walkway with his megaphone, shouting. Whenever Mr. Bailey was out like t h a t , everyone knew that he was shouting to fisherman to stay clear of the lock he was about to open. Jerry had been up with Mr. Bailey when he had opened a lock. Mr. Bailey would be sure a l l fishermen had pulled clear, then he would step back inside the powerhouse where the turbines were humming and press a button to s t a r t the hydraulic system that raised the concrete gate that impounded the lake's water. Then he would go back outside on the walkway and and look over the lower side and watch the tons of angry water crash down the spillway, churning the lower r i v e r into a frothy, foamy, turbulent boil for several boat-lengths. It was fun to watch, to Jerry Weeks, and r e a l ly fun to be with Mr. Bailey high up there on the walkway. Mr. Bailey liked his job. He considered man's harnessing and control of water an Important career. While tons of excess water poured through the lock, Mr. Bailey would light his pipe and watch the level marker of the water behind the dam, and to anyone with him he would point out his white frame house up from the powerhouse on a slight r i se behind company buildings. He would even glance downstream at the swimming beach and would comment on the f l a t blue color of the bluff near i t . Mr. Bailey would c a l l that quiet part of the r i v e r near the bluff nature's real solitude. But J e r r y Weeks, on t h i s day he remembers so well, did not look upriver. Snook was yelling about his f o x t a i l . And Jerry almost lay into a skid on the loose slag of the road when Spot caught up with him and ran close to his bike. Jerry Weeks wished that Sno^THowington hadhH£ been yelling about his f o x t a i l ; he |
