What Orders?

“‘All clear your side?” said Findlayson. The whisper rang in the box of
lattice work.
“Yes, and the east channel’s filling now. We’re utterly out of our
reckoning. When is this thing down on us?”
“There’s no saying. She’s filling as faster as she can. Look!” Findlayson
pointed to the planks below his feet, where the sand, burned and defiled by
months of work, was beginning to whisper and fizz.
“What orders?” said Hitchcock.
“Call the roll--count stores sit on your hunkers--and pray for the
bridge. That’s all I can think of Good night. Don’t risk your life
trying to fish out anything that may go downstream.”
“Oh, I’ll be as prudent as you are! ‘Night. Heavens, how she’s filling!
Here’s the rain in earnest.”