It was, indeed, good coasting down Lafayette hill. This was a long and, at certain places, a steep slope, which led from Cardiff village, over the mountain, to the town of Lafayette. A few miles beyond Lafayette was another settlement called Onativia. The long hill wound in and out, with queer twists and turns and an abundance of thank-'e-ma'ams, which made the sleds leap up in the air as the runners struck those spots.
The snow storm ceased in the afternoon, when Roger and Adrian, donning their boots, mufflers, and short jackets, trudged off to the hill, dragging clipper sleds with them. They found the coasting-place black and swarming with boys and girls,—hearty, sturdy youngsters, who laughed and shouted as they pelted each other with snowballs. The white flakes had not become packed down hard enough yet to make the going good, but beneath the hundreds of tramping feet and the scores of sled runners, that process would not take long. The really swift and exciting coasting, however, would not begin until the bill was worn smooth and icy.
Roger and Adrian joined the happy throng of young people. Like the others they dragged their sleds part wayup the hill, and then, leaping skilfully upon the narrow board, they slid down, going faster and faster as they gathered momentum. The hill was two miles in extent, but none of the youngsters cared to go to the top to get the benefit of the long slide. It took too much time to walk up, and they preferred the more rapid, though shorter skimming over the snowy surface.
"It isn't very good yet," said Adrian, as they reached the bottom of the slope, after an invigorating ride. "Wait two or three days, though, until the sun thaws it a bit, and it freezes some more, and then you'll see coasting that is coasting. You'll see a race that I bet you never saw one like before."
"What kind of a race?"
"A two-mile coasting race down this hill, for the championship of the valley, among the boys of Cardiff, Lafayette, and Onativia."
"You don't mean to say they race down this hill?"
"Sure. On big bob sleds. I'm captain of our bob, and you can go 'long this year. We'll have the race in about a week."
Just then Adrian saw some boy acquaintances.
"Hey, Ed," he called to one of them, "come here. And you, too, Jim."
Two boys joined Adrian, big, sturdy, red-cheeked lads, panting with their exercise in the crisp air. Roger was introduced to the newcomers, Edward Johnson and James Smather.
"I was just telling my cousin about our yearlychampionship race," explained Adrian, "when I happened to see you two. I suppose we'll have the contest, as usual?"
"Of course," said Ed, and Jim agreed with him.
"Looks as if we could have it by Saturday," said Jim, carefully noting the condition of the hill.
"I guess it'll be packed hard enough by then," assented Ed. "I s'pose you fellers are ready for another lickin'," he added, grinning a bit at Adrian.
"If you can beat this time you're welcome to," was the reply, and Adrian seemed a little nettled.
"I reckon you won't walk away from the Lafayette boys as easily as you did last winter," said Jim to Ed. "We beat you the year before, and we can do it again, and Cardiff too."
"Don't holler 'til you're out of the woods," advised Adrian. "I've put new runners on our bob."
"You'll need 'em, from the way she hung back last winter," laughed Edward, who had been captain of the victorious Onativia team the previous year.
The three-cornered race had been won by Lafayette two years in succession, and, as in the contests over which Adrian had been commander, his crew had lost in the struggle, their hearts were not exactly happy, though neither captain nor crew was discouraged.
"Shall we say Saturday for the race?" asked Adrian at length.
"Suits me," came from James.
"I'm agreeable," assented Edward, and thus the three captains arranged.
This was Tuesday when the date for the contest was set. After making up the details with his opponents, Adrian proposed a few more coasts down the hill, and then he and Roger trudged off home.
"Do you think you'll win?" asked Roger anxiously as he plodded along the scarcely broken road. He was almost as interested as Adrian, for, though he had so recently come to Cardiff, he already felt himself one of the boys there.
"It's hard telling," answered Adrian, after a pause. "The Onativia boys have a very swift bob, and they usually manage to get off a little quicker than we do. We'd have won last year, if they hadn't got to the narrow part of the road before we did."
"What happened?" asked Roger.
"Why, we couldn't pass 'em, as there was only room for one sled there. So they came in first. But I've got a plan for this race, though, that ought to bring us in ahead, if I can only work it out. You just wait, that's all."
Roger thought Saturday would never come. There was little to do about the farm now, so he and Adrian overhauled the big Cardiff bob, which was stored in Mr. Kimball's barn. In this work they were assisted by such of the crew as could spare time from their duties.
The runners of the sled were filed, and polished bright and smooth. Several extra braces were put in to stiffen the long board. The carpet, on top of this, was stuffed again, so as to afford a softer seat going over the bumps,and the foot-rests were altered a bit. Adrian also put on a louder sounding gong.
Then he made a change which most of the boys declared was a foolish one. This was to make the rear as well as the front small sled movable, so that either and both could be steered separately. The front bob was turned from side to side, by means of an iron wheel on an upright rod, just as the regular coasting bob is. But it was rather an innovation to have the rear sled steerable also. This was Adrian's idea, worked out from something he had seen on a recent visit to Syracuse. This was the sight of a long fire ladder truck turning short and sharp around corners because of both front and rear trucks being movable. He reasoned if a long wagon could be handled to advantage this way a long bob-sled might also.
There was a particular reason why Adrian wanted to steer quickly and turn short, as developed later. At first some of the boys who formed the crew of the bob were inclined to protest at the use of the second steering-wheel. But Adrian silenced them.
"Look here," he said, "I'm captain of this shebang and as long as I am I'm going to steer it the way I think best. If anybody don't like it, they needn't ride. I can get plenty to take those fellows' places. And if you don't want me for captain, just sing out," and Adrian paused for an answer.
"Of course we want you for captain," cried several.
"All right, then, just let me manage it. I'm going tohave two steering-wheels, and we're going to win the race this time."
"I hope so," commented Thomas Archer, and the others joined him in the wish.
Finally the day of the triple contest came. On Friday the snow melted and thawed on Lafayette hill; but that night it grew colder and froze, until the surface of the slope was one long stretch of ice and snow, making a perfect covering for coasting. Saturday dawned clear and cold, but with no biting wind—a rare day for the sport.
All Cardiff seemed to be astir early that morning, though the contest would not begin until two o'clock. An hour before that time, however, crowds began to gather along the hill, a number of the men and boys tramping up the steep slope to the top, that they might witness the start.
The majority of the spectators, however, preferred to remain where they could see the finish, and that was near Hank Mack's store, in the centre of Cardiff, where the road from Lafayette joined with the main thoroughfare leading to Syracuse. This was a vantage point where might be observed the ending of the struggle, which meant so much to the boys, and in a measure to their elders. On the far side of the main road, opposite the end of the hill, was a big bank of snow into which the racers might steer, if, perchance, they found themselves, at the swift completion of the journey, unable to turn to left or right. Thus the chance of accidents was lessened.
The boys of Lafayette and Onativia had one advantage, for they did not have to drag their heavy bob up the hillfor the start, as the Cardiff crew did. But for this race, at least, that labor was saved Adrian and his chums, for Mr. Kimball got out his team of horses, hitched them to the big sled, and the animals, which were sharp-shod, easily dragged the racer up the two-mile incline, for which aid the boys were very thankful.
The Cardiff crew, at the head of which marched Adrian and Roger, followed the team, walking leisurely along and keeping a sharp watch that the bob came to no mishap. All but two of the boys would be merely passengers, for to manage the affair only a pair of steersmen were needed, the others being there simply to give weight and to make the contest more interesting and exciting.
With the Cardiff crew marched a crowd of youngsters from the village. They knew they must miss the thrilling finish of the race if they went to the top of the hill, but they wanted to lend the fellowship of their presence to the tail-enders of the series of contests, much the same as a crowd of "rooters" accompany their favorite nine or eleven. Besides, the Cardiff crew was going into a sort of hostile country and would need some support.
When the delegation marching with Adrian reached the top of the hill they found themselves the centre of a throng of perhaps two hundred people, mostly boys, though there were a goodly number of young men, and even some graybeards who still felt the joys of youth in their blood. The Onativia crew was surrounded by their friends, and the Lafayette contenders by theirs, and though the Cardiff organization was greatly outnumbered, they did notfeel at all disheartened when they saw how confident their captain was.
Scores of spectators and several members of the rival crews crowded about Adrian's bob, and the two steering-wheels at once attracted attention. There were dozens of questions about the second wheel, to all of which Adrian, as well as his followers, returned polite but evasive answers.
"Mebby th' Cardiff boys calalate on slidin' back'ards 's well 's for'ards," commented a Lafayette supporter. "Thet seems t' be their fav'rite mode a' locomotion, jedgin' from th' last two trys."
A hot reply for this taunt was on Adrian's lips, but he checked himself. It would not do to boast of his plan, for it was yet untried, and he could not say what would be the outcome. So he merely motioned for his crew to keep near him, and answered nothing to the laugh that went up at the attempted wit of the Lafayette young man. Adrian took his cousin to one side.
"I haven't said much to you, Roger, about making this trip," he said, "but I want you to go along with me. You're not afraid, are you?"
"Not a bit," replied Roger, stoutly, though in his heart he was a little apprehensive, as he saw the big white stretch sloping steeply before him and thought of the twists, the turns, and bumps in it. "I'll go if you'll let me, but maybe some of the crew won't like it. Besides, it will make thirteen on the sled, and you know—"
"Can't make me believe in bad luck signs of any sort,"laughed Adrian. "As for the crew not wanting you, I've spoken to them about it, and they're all agreeable. There are no regular rules to this race, anyhow. You can take as many as the bob will carry."
So it was arranged Roger was to go. The preparations were nearly completed, the judges of the start had been selected, and those for the finish named. The latter set off on their ride down the incline ahead of the three big sleds, so as to be at the foot of the hill on time.
There was no danger of any teams coming up the incline, as the custom of the race was well known in the valley, and farmers gave Lafayette hill a wide berth on that day. As Roger watched the sleds of the judges for the finish whizz down the slope, he felt less and less inclined to make the racing trip. But he did not like to back out now, so he nerved himself for the ordeal.
The three captains held a short conversation and drew straws to see which should have the choice of position at the start. This fell to Adrian for the first time in the last three years, and he felt it was the beginning of success.
The preliminaries were soon arranged, and the starters, who were to shove the sleds to the edge of the hill and over the brow, were selected. There was the last look at the bobs on the part of the captains to see that these were in good shape and nothing loose or dangling, and a final trying of the steering-wheels to ascertain if they worked easily. The boys who formed the three crews began to fasten up stray ends of scarfs and clothing, buttoning their coats tightly, for it would be a fierce and swift journey.
Adrian wore an anxious air, which he tried to shake off, for though he did not need to depend much on his crew, he wanted them to feel there was a good chance for victory, as he honestly believed there was. He tested the two wheels on his bob, made sure that his assistant helmsman understood his duties, and he was ready. As his aid in guiding the big sled Adrian had selected Thomas Baker, a lad of considerable muscle, quick, and reliable.
"I guess we're in shape," announced Adrian in a low voice to his crew, as he saw the starters coming toward him.
"Well, boys, take your places," called the starting-judge to the three crews.
The lads all scrambled to their seats on the rival bobs, to which they had been assigned. Roger found himself placed second from Adrian, and though this gave him a fine view of the road stretching before him, he would gladly have changed his position for one farther back. It looked a little too much like taking a ride on the front end of a comet.
It did not take long for the three cargoes of human freight to be loaded. Adrian braced his feet against the cleats he had nailed on the first bob and grasped the steering-wheel firmly. Tom Baker did the same at his rear end, and, between them, came the eleven sturdy youngsters, all from Cardiff, save Roger, though he considered himself at least a temporary resident of that village now.
On the other two bobs the arrangements were just the same, save that there was only one steersman on each, and twelve boys in all instead of thirteen. The significance of the so-called unlucky number was noted by some of the Lafayette crew.
"Ain't you fellers Jonah enough without goin' out of your way to look for a hoodoo?" asked Jim Smather as he glanced at Adrian and laughed.
"This will be the luckiest thirteen you ever saw," rejoined the Cardiff captain, and that was the only prediction of victory he allowed himself.
"I s'pose ye all know th' conditions of th' race well 'nuff by this time," remarked the chief starter, Abe Crownheart. "Ye'll all git shoved at th' same time, 'n' th' bob that gits t' th' bottom a' th' hill fust wins, no matter how it gits thar, pervided it ain't upside down or downside up."
There were nods of assent from the captains, and those detailed for the purpose pulled the three big sleds to within a short distance of the top of the hill. Adrian, having had the choice, had selected the position farthest to the right. Next to him was Lafayette, and at the extreme left the Onativia bob.
"You starters are t' begin t' shove when ye hear th' pistol crack, 'n' not afore," cautioned Mr. Crownheart. "Anybody that tries t' git a false start so 's t' go ahead'll be fined half a minute headway. So be careful. Are ye all ready, captains?"
"Yes," answered Adrian, shortly, the light of battle coming into his eyes. He meant to win!
"All ready," announced Jim Smather.
"Shove away!" called Ed Johnson.
There was a moment of silence and hesitation.
"One!" counted Mr. Crownheart, raising the revolver slowly.
"Two!" and he extended his hand, holding the weapon high in the air.
"Three! Crack!"
The word and the report of the blank cartridge came together. There was a straining of backs and legs, a bending forward, and a mighty shove from the starters. They were as eager as colts tugging at the harness, for on the first shove or impetus depended much of the early speed of the bobs.
The steel runners squeaked on the snow, the big sleds moved forward, slowly at first, but then more easily and quickly. Now they had reached the very brow of the hill and poised for an instant.
The next second they started down the slope, with a whizz and plunge, amid a roar of cheers.
It was a perfect beginning, and the sharp points of the runners of the three foremost sleds of the bobs were almost in a line. It was to be a fair race. From one single cheer at the successful start the shouts broke up into cries for the different village crews, each one doing honor to his native town. Anxiously did the crowd watch the sleds shooting down the hill. In a few minutes those who had sleighs would coast down also, to find out how the race ended.
The rival bobs were skimming along like birds. At first Roger could distinguish nothing, for a mist came into his eyes, caused by the rushing wind that surged past him. Then he began to see more clearly. He glanced across to the left and was surprised to see no sign of the other sleds. Could they have passed the Cardiff boys?His heart gave a mighty thump at this fear. Then he was reassured, as he heard a bumping and scraping behind him and saw the other two bobs plunge into the line of his vision. They had hung back a little, owing to an unevenness in the road.
The three racers were once more in line and were gathering speed with every foot they swayed forward. That the Cardiff boys had a good chance was early seen as they noted their sled fairly lift itself from the ground under the momentum which increased each second. Roger held on tightly for fear of being pitched off. The wind was whistling loudly in his ears, and his face was bitten by the cold. He had never ridden so fast in his life before.
Lafayette hill consisted of a series of little slopes and ascents, with small level stretches in between. The road curved in and out, now to the left, now to the right, and every once in a while would come a "thank-ye-ma'am." Over these bumps the bob flew, and when it came down, after taking the leap, it jolted every member of the Cardiff crew.
The pace was comparatively slow for the first quarter of a mile. Then the hill, which had not curved yet, became steeper. When the bobs reached this point the speed really became very swift, and the heavy sleds seemed to merely glide over the frozen ice and snow.
It was now a race in earnest, with the three contesting crews on even terms. They were about ten feet apart from side to side. The captains, with tense muscles, were guidingtheir easily swerved bobs, their eyes fastened on the slope before them.
Up to this time there had been no use for the stern wheel on the Cardiff sled, Tom Baker merely holding the rear bob rigid with it and keeping it straight in place, while Adrian did all the guiding necessary, which so far had been little, as the hill was without a turn. The wind was so strong, as the bobs skimmed through it, that talking was hardly possible. If a boy opened his mouth, not thinking, he was liable to find himself gasping for breath.
From somewhere behind him Roger heard an exclamation coming from a member of the Cardiff crew. He turned his head and was startled to see that instead of the Lafayette and Onativia sleds being in line with him, both bobs were now ahead of Cardiff, the Lafayette boys being half a length in advance and the other a quarter. It began to look as though the happenings of past years were to be repeated and Cardiff beaten. But Adrian showed no evidence of fear that he might be defeated again. Indeed he smiled a bit as he noted the two other bobs leaving him behind. He kept on smiling as they drew ahead, urged on by greater weight, better runners, or a smoother condition of the snowy roadbed.
The first turn of the hill was now reached and the three bobs took it at a speed that caused them to careen to one side and skim along on single runners for a time, while the boys momentarily feared an upset.
The big sleds righted, however, and whizzed along,covering a half mile in about two minutes, and thus being about a quarter way over the course.
After the first turn of the road the Cardiff sled caught up somewhat on its competitors, so that when the second curve in the hill came the three bobs were almost in line again. Thus seesawing, one losing and another gaining a slight advantage, a fourth quarter mile was passed in quicker speed, leaving about half the two-mile journey to finish.
The contestants were now approaching the biggest turn in the hill, a long swing to the left, around a very steep part, the most dangerous place in the race, and one that all the captains dreaded. They gripped the steering-wheels more strongly, and every member of the crews clung to their seats and braced their feet.
Once again did the Cardiff sled seem to lag behind, and its crew noted with dismay that the two other coasters had passed them. As they were about to round the turn Adrian's bob was two lengths in the rear, and his comrades feared the race was lost to them, as there was little chance of catching up, once the Lafayette and Onativia sleds began to whizz down the steep incline.
Then something unexpected happened,—something that made Roger and the other members of the Cardiff crew catch their breaths—something that Adrian had planned and had been waiting anxiously for.
Just for one brief instant Roger noted that the turn of the road now hid the other two sleds. Had the road kept straight on, instead of curving to the left as it did, it wouldhave crossed a wide field, and then joined itself, so to speak, farther on. It was as if the curve was a big bent bow, and the road, if continued straight, would be represented by the bowstring. Though there was a path which cut off the curve and shortened the road for pedestrians, it was considered too steep and risky for teams, hence the curve. And it was down this incline, this cut-off, that Adrian proposed to guide his sled.
By so doing he would save a quarter of a mile, and if all went well he would come out into the main road again ahead of his rivals. But the way was dangerous, inasmuch as at the end it was necessary to make a sudden turn to the left to avoid a huge rock and to get back into the main thoroughfare.
With a whizz and a scraping of snow and ice the Cardiff sled left the beaten road and plunged into the almost unbroken snow of the fields. A fence lined the highway, but when Adrian steered the bob toward it the bars were down. The captain had seen to that. Before Roger and the other boys knew what was happening, they found themselves skimming across the field that stretched white and untrampled before them. Some thought it was an accident and cried out in alarm, but a shout from Adrian reassured every one.
The way was full of perils, for the field through which the straight path lay was not as level as the road. Fortunately the snow had melted and frozen again very hard, so that the surface was almost like a sheet of ice.
My, but how that sled did glide along! The runnersrang in the cold air as they rubbed along the snow and ice, which flew up on both sides of the boys like a miniature storm of white flakes. On and on went the Cardiff bob, like a big bird skimming along. In less than a minute it had approached the dangerous turn, around which it was necessary to swing to get back into the road. Could Adrian make it?
"All ready, Tom!" sung out Adrian. "Look out for the turn!" and Tom Baker tightened his grip on the rear steering-wheel.
"I'm ready," he called back.
The next instant they were at the curve. If the bob, heavy with the load of boys, kept straight on, it would hit the huge rock with a terrible crash. Could Adrian pass it safely?
It was a second of intense expectation on the part of the crew. Then they felt a sudden swerve, and instinctively leaned to the left, to bring all the weight possible on the runners on that side, to keep them from skidding. There was a shrill screeching and squeaking of the snow and a shower of white flakes. Adrian tugged with all his might at his wheel. And then the wisdom and the great necessity of having the rear sled movable and steerable was apparent. For, had it not been, the sudden and short sweep could never have been made.
A second after Adrian twisted his wheel Tom Baker did likewise. The rear end of the bob swung as if a giant hand had sent it around. It almost grazed the big boulder, missing it by a few inches. The sled hung and quiveredfor an instant on the very edge of the turn, and suddenly, with a motion that almost upset it, the bob righted and swept into the main road.
The great feat had been accomplished safely, and Adrian felt his heart thrill.
Once fairly in the road, every one looked for a sign of the other sleds. Was the Cardiff bob too late? Was their racer ahead or behind the others? These were questions that tugged anxiously at the hearts of the boys. But there was little time for Adrian to think of this, for the control of the bob, moving like a locomotive, needed all his attention, and Tom Baker's as well. There was another sharp turn to make, and it took all of the two steersmen's strength to twist the wheels. Then the sled shot into a straight incline, the last quarter mile of the course.
As the Cardiff sled was speeding on there came a shout of dismay from behind it, for the Lafayette racer, and that of Onativia, on a line with it, whizzed around the curve. Well might they shout, for they were distanced, and with no chance to regain the intervening ground which Adrian had so daringly and so skilfully covered.
In another minute the race was over. The Cardiff sled glided down the last declivity, and into the main street of the town, through the crowd of admiring people who had gathered. Adrian steered to a patch of ashes that had been sprinkled to retard the speed of the bobs at the end. As the Cardiff boys leaped from their still slowly moving racer, to be greeted with hearty hand clasps and shouts of victory, the Lafayette sled came along, with that of Onativiabehind it. It was a clean-cut, decisive victory for Cardiff, and even the vanquished ones had to admit it. Adrian's plan had worked out exactly as he hoped, and had saved the day; and to him the credit of the race was due, as all Cardiff joyfully admitted.
For a few minutes Adrian, Roger, and the other members of the crew could not break away from the admiring crowd.
"Three cheers for the Cardiff boys!" called some one, and they were given with a will.
"And three cheers for Adrian Kimball!" shouted Captain Smather of the Lafayette bob.
The shouts rang out louder than before, and Adrian got even redder in the face than the biting wind had made him.
It was a great day for Cardiff.
It was several days before the people of Cardiff were done talking about the bob sled race, and it was much longer ere the boys of the crew and Roger and Adrian got beyond telling each other their feelings at the various stages of the perilous journey. Mr. Kimball was proud of his son's achievement, and Mrs. Kimball was thankful no one had been hurt. So the memorable contest passed into local history, and no doubt if you should go to Cardiff now, you would learn all about it much better than it is told here.
Winter now settled down over the valley, and it was a severe season, as Roger found. Yet, though it was much colder than ever he had known it to be in New York, the lower temperature did not affect him so much as the frosty weather at home, since the atmosphere was a dry one, differing in this respect from the penetrating damp cold of the region near the Atlantic.
Thanksgiving came, with its feasting, its gathering of old friends and relatives about the fireside, and all its happiness, and Roger thought it was the jolliest holiday of the year. Never was there such a big, crisp-brownroasted turkey, never so much cranberry sauce, never such stacks of white celery, never such good gravy, such sweet hickory nuts, such white popcorn, such rosy-cheeked apples, nor such fine cider. The meal lasted all day, and at night every one voted they had enough to last them a week.
December saw Cardiff snowbound, and for a week the village was cut off from communication with the other towns because of the big drifts that filled the valley. Christmas brought the usual joys, and Roger was well remembered by the folks at home. There was a welcome letter, also, from his father, in which Mr. Anderson said how glad he was that his son's health was improving so rapidly. Then there was a box that contained some books that he had long wished for and a bright five-dollar gold-piece.
The new year came, and winter, with all its old-fashioned severity, held Cardiff tight and fast. It snowed, and snowed, and snowed again.
Then there was nothing to do but stay in the house, or after a trip to the barn and the finishing of the chores to journey to the village store. Adrian began to attend school, and occasionally Roger went with him, to sit in the classroom, and listen to the recitations. But there was plenty of time before and after school, for fun. The two boys went coasting and skating, and it was at these sports Roger found he had much to learn from his cousin and the other country boys, who could glide along over the frozen mill pond, from morning until night, and never seem to tire.
"Wa'al," remarked Mr. Kimball, as he came home from Hank Mack's store, one cold night, stamping the snow from his boots in the wood-shed, "wa'al, I hope it's cloudy t'-morrow."
"Why?" asked Roger, who thought the more sun there was in winter the better it must be.
"Why? So's thi' b'ar won't see his shadder."
"What if he does see his shadow?"
"Land a' Goshen, th' boy never hearn tell a' Candlemas Day," ejaculated Mr. Kimball. "You see," he explained, "there's an ole sayin' 'n' I got it from my granddad, thet goes suthin' like this: Candlemas Day, half yer pork, 'n' half yer hay.' Thet means, 'cordin' t' my way a' thinkin' thet t'-morrow's 'bout th' middle a' winter, 'n' a keerful farmer'll only hev half his produce eat up. Ye know b'ars go inter holler logs t' sleep all winter. Come February second, which is Candlemas Day, there's a theory they come out t' see how th' weather is.
"Ef th' sun shines so's t' throw a shadder on th' ground, it skeers th' b'ar so, he skedaddles back inter his holler log, 'n' sleeps fer six weeks more, durin' which time we hev winter. But, ef th' sun don't shine, 'n' thar ain't no shadder, th' b'ar's satisfied. He don't git skeered, 'n' only goes back in his log fer four weeks more sleep, which means an early spring. So ye see why I don't want th' sun t' shine t'-morrow."
"I see," laughed Roger, as Mr. Kimball finished his explanation. "Will you have half your pork and half your hay left by to-morrow?"
"I calalate so," responded Mr. Kimball, "I calalate so."
The sun didn't shine next day, and Mr. Kimball was happy. For the following few days it snowed, and Roger began to feel that there would be several months more of winter, instead of the proverbial four weeks, but his uncle didn't seem to worry.
Whether it was due to the bear's action or not, there was an early spring that year. The bluebirds came about the middle of March, and farmers began their plowing several weeks ahead of the usual time. Every one was glad that winter was over, though Roger and the other boys in Cardiff had enjoyed it very much, and many of them wished for a second contest with the bobs down Lafayette hill. Gradually the days got warmer, and the damp earth gave out a pleasant odor that promised a ready sprouting of the seeds.
One pleasant evening toward the end of April, when the sun peeped out, just before setting, after a smart little shower, Roger went to the post-office, to wait for the stage to come in with the mail. Adrian was not with him, for he had some chores to do, and of late Roger had fallen into the habit of going to the village alone occasionally.
He sat on the steps of Hank Mack's general store, which also contained the post-office, talking with several boys, whose acquaintance he had made since he arrived in Cardiff.
"There she comes," cried Frank Dobbs, as he pointedto a moving object half a mile away. Roger looked and saw the stage, which advanced rapidly and in a few minutes drew up at the steps with a flourish. Porter Amidown jumped off, lugging the heavy mail bag into the little room partitioned off from the main store, where the letters and papers would be sorted and put in the different boxes.
Most of the boys followed Porter inside, but Roger lingered on the steps to see if the stage brought any passengers. He saw Enberry Took alight from the driver's high seat, and the boy nodded to him. Then from inside the vehicle two men got out. One was an elderly gentleman, bearing a valise of which he seemed to take great care. His companion was younger, and, when he had stepped out he lifted after him a long, three-legged instrument, of the kind Roger had often seen surveyors use. The younger man also carried a small satchel, which he handled as if it contained something of value.
"Where's the hotel; that is, Crownheart's hotel?" asked the younger man of Roger, who just then was the only person at hand.
"Right over there, sir," pointing to the single inn of which the village boasted, and which stood a little way up the hill, beyond the post-office.
"Thanks, my boy," said the inquirer. Then to his companion, "This way, Mr. Dudley. It doesn't look very promising, to be sure, but then, you know, you never can tell by the looks of a toad how far it can jump. I guess we can stand it for a night or two, until we find out whetherthere is any truth in this report or not," and the two men started toward the Pine Tree Inn, as Abe Crownheart called his hotel.
Roger stood looking at the strangers for a minute, wondering what their object might be in coming to Cardiff with their instrument and the valises, and he puzzled over the younger man's last words. Then dismissing the matter from his mind, he went in for the mail. When he found a letter for him from home, he was so delighted that he forgot all about the two new arrivals.
Abe Crownheart was considerably surprised when Mr. Dudley and Mr. Ranquist, as the men introduced themselves, appeared at his hotel and asked for accommodations.
"I suppose we can have a bed," suggested Mr. Dudley.
"And something to eat, don't forget that," put in Mr. Ranquist. "That twelve-mile stage journey has given me a tremendous appetite."
"Wa'al," began Mr. Crownheart, slowly, as if trying to think of something to say,—"wa'al, t' be honest 'ith ye, we don't hev much call fer lodgins fer man 'n' beast here. Cou'se I kin guv ye suthin' t' eat, but th' bed—um—d' ye mind both sleepin' in th' same room?"
"We would prefer it, if there are separate beds," said Mr. Dudley.
"I guess Mrs. Crownheart kin fix ye up then. Ye see we ain't very strong on sleepin' quarters, 'ceptin' fer our own family. Last time we hed boarders were quite a number a' years ago, in fact when th' Cardiff giant werefirst diskivered. I s'pose ye hearn tell a' thet," and he paused for an answer.
Mr. Dudley nodded.
"Yep," went on Abe, "th' figger were diskivered right acrost th' valley here, 'n' I boarded some a' th' men what were exhibitin' it. I recollect how—"
"I dare say," broke in Mr. Dudley, shortly, "I have heard considerable about that giant fraud, and some future day I will be glad to discuss the various features of it with you, but now, my dear Mr. Crowhead—"
"Crownheart, sir, that's my name,—Crownheart, not Crowhead," said Abe, a little nettled. "It's right on the sign."
"Oh, yes, to be sure, Crownheart, I beg your pardon, exceedingly stupid of me. No offence, I assure you, my eyesight is not as good as it once was."
"Least said soonest mended," answered Mr. Crownheart, smiling good-naturedly. "Thet giant—"
"I was about to suggest," broke in Mr. Dudley once more, "that if it was all the same to you, Mr. Crownheart, Mr. Ranquist and I would go to our room, and get ready for supper, which at the present time is something I would rather discuss than any number of stone giants."
"If you'll kindly allow us to register, we'll go upstairs, I think," said Mr. Ranquist.
"Wa'al, 's I were sayin'," went on Mr. Crownheart, apparently not heeding the suggestions, "we ain't been called on t' lodge anybody sence th' giant were dug up. Howsomever, I guess I kin accommodate ye. Supper's aleetle easier t' figger out than th' beddin' question. A meal is suthin' we kin rassal 'ith t' some advantage."
"Shall we register?" asked Mr. Dudley, getting a little impatient. "We don't know how long we may stay. Probably a week."
"Wa'al, we ain't in th' habit a' havin' folks register," said the inn-keeper. "To be honest 'ith ye, I don't know's we got any convenience fer it. Uster be a book 'round here sommers, but I swan I don't know what's become of it. Prob'ly th' boys hev used it t' keep th' score a' their cribbage games in. Here, scribble yer names down on thet, 'n' ef I come acrost th' book some day, I'll fill 'em in. 'T ain't no ways particular, anyhow," and he shoved over a bit of rough brown wrapping-paper, on which his guests wrote their names, adding after them, "New York City."
"From N' York, eh?" said Mr. Crownheart, looking at what the two men had put down. "Wa'al, we've got another N' Yorker here."
"You don't say so," began Mr. Dudley, eagerly, "who is he, an engin—" and he stopped suddenly, as his companion nudged him warningly.
"Why, he's Bert Kimball's nephew," said Mr. Crownheart. "Mebby ye seen th' lad. He were 'ith a lot a' others on th' steps a' th' post-office, waitin' fer th' stage t' come in."
"Oh, yes, that must have been the boy who showed us your hotel," said Mr. Ranquist, quickly, and Mr. Dudley appeared much relieved.
"He's up here fer his health," went on Abe. "Cardiff's healthy 'nuff fer anybody. Be you two out here fer thet, or be ye surveyin' fer a railroad?" and the inn-keeper looked significantly at the instrument Mr. Ranquist had.
"Well, we heard this village was a healthy place," put in Mr. Dudley, the older man, "and so we thought we'd come and see for ourselves. We might do a little surveying also, but whether for a railroad or not isn't for us to say. Suppose you show us to our room now."
"All right," answered Mr. Crownheart, a little miffed that his guests had not declared their business in response to his gentle hint. "Jest come along. 'T ain't fixed up yet, but I'll hev it 'tended t' right away," and he led the men to the upper floor.
At the supper table that evening Roger recalled the arrival of the two strangers in the stage, and remarked casually to his uncle that Mr. Crownheart had some one at his hotel at last.
"I saw them come in and showed them where to go," said Roger, detailing the circumstances.
"I wonder what they want?" remarked Mr. Kimball, in a musing tone. "Don't seem 's ef any railroad 'd run out here, yet ye say they hed a surveyor's three-legged contraption with 'em, Roger. Wa'al, I don't know's it concerns me any, 'less they want t' buy some a' my land, so's I could git money t' meet thet ole mortgage 'ith. I've got a hard scrabble ahead a' me," and the farmer's face took on a worried look, just as on the night when hereceived the letter containing the bad news about the loss of his savings.
Yet, though Mr. Kimball did not know it, the arrival of the two strangers was destined to be of considerable concern and importance to him, and that not very far distant.
It was a few days after the arrival of the two strangers in town that Roger and Adrian were walking along the road that led to the village of Tully. There was nothing for them to do about the farm just then, and Adrian thought it would be a good plan to "prospect" a bit, as he called it, to see if he might come upon a deposit of old bones anywhere. For he had not forgotten his plan of selling them, or anything else he might happen upon, to raise all the money he could.
It was a fine, warm spring day, with the air full of sweet smells from the damp earth, with the tender green grass just showing above the brown soil and tiny leaves bursting from the trees. The two boys hurried on, for they too felt the sap running up in their veins, and they wanted to hop and skip and shout aloud in the very enjoyment of being alive. As for Roger, he never felt better in his life, and he knew that even his short stay in the country, though it had been during a severe and cold winter, had been of great benefit to him.
"I'll beat you down to the old button-ball tree," cried Adrian suddenly, pointing to a big sycamore about six hundred feet ahead of them on the road.
"I'll go you."
"One, two, three," counted Adrian, "Ready!" and the boys were off at the word.
For nearly three quarters of the distance Roger held his own with his cousin. Then the more sturdy legs of the country boy and his better wind told, and he drew gradually away, though Roger did not give up until the very end, when Adrian finished five feet in advance.
"You—did—better—than—I thought—you would," panted Adrian, as he flopped down on the grass under the tree to rest.
"I'm picking up," admitted Roger, modestly. "I didn't think I could keep up at all. I never could run as far as this without getting a pain in my side. But it don't seem to bother me a bit now."
"Keep at it, and when you get back home, you'll be able to challenge the best of 'em," said Adrian, as he jumped up to throw a stone at a tin can in the road, hitting the object with a resounding clang.
The boys resumed their walk, talking on topics of interest to them and keeping their eyes "peeled," as Adrian expressed it, for old bones, that they might know where to locate them when they came another day. They had gone about two miles, rambling slowly along, when, as they turned a bend in the road, they caught sight of two men carrying valises, hurrying on, just ahead of them.
"They look like book agents," ventured Adrian.
Roger glanced sharply at the receding figures.
"Why," he exclaimed, "they are the two men who areboarding at Crownheart's hotel, the ones who came in on the stage the other night. I guess they must be looking over the ground for the new railroad."
"Let's chase after them and see what they do," suggested Adrian, and then the boys, having some object in their walk, quickened their pace to catch up to Mr. Dudley and Mr. Ranquist. In a few minutes the men reached an open field on the left side of the road,—a pasture filled with big stones and bowlders that had fallen from a great ledge of rock two hundred feet high or more, which cropped out about seven hundred feet from the highway, and rose, almost abruptly, from the level of the field.
"Hold on a minute," cautioned Adrian, as he saw the men stop. "Don't let them catch us playing 'I spy'; they might not want us to follow them, even though we have a right to go where we please. We'll just wait by the tree until we see which way they turn."
The boys sat down in the shade of a big maple.
"What's that queer smell," asked Roger suddenly, sniffing the air.
"Sulphur spring," explained Adrian. "This is what they call 'Stony Farm.' Belongs to Jim Eaton, and about all it's good for is to pasture sheep. The sulphur spring comes out of that rocky ledge and runs across under the road. Some folks say the water's healthy, but it tastes too much like rotten eggs for me. The cattle won't drink it. But say, those men are going in," and he rose to peer at them.
Mr. Dudley could be seen pointing toward the big rocky hill, and he appeared to be urging his companion to advance toward it. The younger man seemed to be in favor of going farther on before turning off the road, and he indicated a place about half a mile distant. But in the end the older man prevailed, and the two, after a cautious glance on all sides, struck into the field and made their way to a path that led up on top of the out-cropping rock. After waiting until the men had well advanced, Roger and Adrian took after them.
Proceeding slowly along, the boys saw the men ascend to the top of the big ledge, and then turn to the left, going back in the direction they had come from. On top of the rocks was a sort of path, made by the sheep and cows that used it to pass into the woods during hot days. The men walked along this, for perhaps a mile, stopping every now and then to examine the ground closely. Once in a while the younger man would chip off a bit of rock, which he and his companion would look at carefully.
"I guess they're geologists getting specimens," ventured Roger.
"Maybe," admitted Adrian, who was beginning to lose interest in the men since they seemed to be doing nothing out of the ordinary. The boys followed along in silence, taking care to keep from observation.
Suddenly the two men stopped. The older one set his valise down and took something from it. This he seemed to be fitting together, and when he had finished he hada long, slender steel rod, which Mr. Ranquist, after carefully selecting a place on the surface, shoved into the soil. He twisted it about and then drew it up, after which he and Mr. Dudley carefully examined the end that had gone down into the earth.
"I have it!" exclaimed Roger. "They're prospecting for oil, that's what they are. They're not railroad surveyors at all."
"Perhaps they're after gold," suggested Adrian, all excited at the very thought. "Cracky! If there should be gold in Cardiff, wouldn't it be great? If there was only a little on dad's land, he wouldn't have to worry about that mortgage."
Adrian had started forward, forgetting the caution he previously used to prevent the men from observing him, and as he did so he dislodged a big stone, which crashed down the hillside with a clatter and bang. At the sound both men looked up suddenly and saw the startled and surprised boys. Mr. Dudley made a quick motion of closing the valise and seemed about to hurry on. But with a hasty gesture Mr. Ranquist detained him and spoke a few hurried words to his companion. Then, turning, the young engineer came slowly toward the boys, who did not know whether to go or stay.
"Live around here?" asked Mr. Ranquist, as he drew near Roger and Adrian.
"'Bout two miles—over to Cardiff," answered Adrian.
"Oh, yes. Um. Nice day, isn't it? Are you hunting?" the man asked, suddenly.
"Nope," from Adrian.
"Fishing?"
"Nope."
"What, then?"
"Prospecting."
"Prospecting?"
"Yep."
"What after?"
"Old bones."
"Old bones? Are you joking, my lad?"
"No, sir, not a bit. We're looking for old bones. They'll bring half a cent a pound, you know," and there was not the trace of a smile on Adrian's face.
"Oh, I see. Of course. Old bones. Humph! Well," and Mr. Ranquist did not seem to know whether to smile or frown. "Well, my friend and I were not exactly looking for old bones. Old stones are more in our line. You see we came out here on a visit and thought we'd take a walk out this way. We've found a fine lot of old stones," and Mr. Ranquist motioned rather vaguely toward his companion. "What are you boys after, anyhow?" he finished, suddenly.
"Nothing in particular," put in Roger, and at the sound of his voice, Mr. Ranquist turned quickly.
"Oh, it's our friend of the post-office," he exclaimed. "I remember you now. How are you?"
"Pretty well," replied Roger.
"Hum. Glad to hear it," responded Mr. Ranquist. "You're from New York, aren't you? Well, so are we,Mr. Dudley and I. Came here to sort of rest up and look around. Nice place, isn't it?"
"I think so," from Roger.
"Yes. Um. Well, Mr. Dudley and I had nothing to do so we sauntered out here."
"Is the railroad going through this place?" asked Adrian. "We heard you were railroad surveyors," he went on.
Mr. Ranquist glanced quickly at the two boys and seemed to be weighing something in his mind. Advancing toward Adrian, he said:
"Now you two young men appear to be smart and bright. If I tell you something can you keep it secret?"
"Yes, sir," chorused the two boys.
"Well, then, we are getting ready to lay out a line through here. But we don't want people to know it yet, because if they did they'd ask a good deal more for their land, which we might need, than it would be worth to us. We're willing, or that is the men who are putting the line through, are ready to pay a good price for the property, but not too much. So we came out here, without letting any one know, to look the ground over and see how it lays. Then if we like it we'll make an offer. But we don't want it talked about until we're ready to have it, that a railroad is likely to come through the valley. Do you understand?"
The boys nodded gravely.
"Now," went on Mr. Ranquist, "I like your looks, and as we need two bright, smart boys who know this part ofthe country well, we might like to engage you. How would you consider such a proposition?"
Adrian and Roger were silent a moment, thinking. They were wondering if they could properly accept the offer.
"It won't interfere with anything else you have to do," continued Mr. Ranquist. "We shall want you only once in a while to guide us around these parts. What do you say?"
"How much?" asked Adrian, always practical.
"Five dollars each," said Mr. Ranquist, quickly.
"For which we're to show you around when you want us and say nothing about a railroad line coming through," stipulated the boy.
"Exactly. I don't mind you telling your folks, but no one else."
"It's a go, if Roger agrees."
"Oh, I'll agree fast enough," put in Roger.
"Then here's your money," said Mr. Ranquist, as if he feared the boys might change their minds. He drew some bills from his pocket, stripped off two crisp bank notes, and passed five dollars each to Roger and Adrian. The boys took the cash as if they had been used to that sort of thing all their lives.
"Now," said Mr. Ranquist, "I guess we won't need you to-day, for as a matter of fact we're going back to the hotel. But can you come with us the day after to-morrow? We want to travel along this ridge, back into the hills, and we don't want to run the chance of gettinglost. So can you meet us at the Cardiff Inn right after dinner?"
"I guess so," answered Adrian. "Yes, sir, we'll be there," and he slyly nudged Roger, warning him to make no answer.
Then the boys turned to go back down the hill, leaving Mr. Dudley and Mr. Ranquist to follow when they pleased. As Roger was about to go away he fancied he heard the older man remonstrating with Mr. Ranquist.
"We need those boys," he thought he heard the younger man say. "They'll come in handy, and I had to hire them. They were altogether too suspicious and knowing, and now I have thrown them off the track."
At which expression Roger wondered somewhat, and all the way home he was busy thinking of the mysterious operations of the new arrivals in Cardiff.
So quickly had it all happened that Roger and Adrian hardly realized they had just received what was, to them, quite a sum of money. They entered the house all excitement, after a brisk walk, and Adrian told his father how he and his cousin had been engaged as guides.
"Wa'al, I must say ye airned th' money easy," said Mr. Kimball.
"Yes, and we can get more," Adrian exclaimed. "We're to go with the men day after to-morrow, to show them the way. Say, dad, what do you s'pose they want of a railroad out here?"
"It's hard t' say what them railroad fellers is up t'," answered Mr. Kimball. "Ye can't even tell whether they're goin' t' put a railroad through er not."
"But they said they were," asserted Adrian.
"Humph!" was all his father answered, with a little snort. He was too concerned with his own matters to think about the possibility of a railroad, especially at this time.
But the news soon spread around Cardiff, in spite of the fact that the boys maintained a strict silence, that arailroad or a trolley line was to go through the valley, and the residents were all talking about the possibility of it the next day after Roger and Adrian had met the two engineers. For the secret of the cousins having been hired as guides got out somehow, though the boys did not tell, and they were the envy of their companions. The less fortunate lads of Cardiff determined to take the first opportunities of offering their services to Mr. Dudley and Mr. Ranquist.
The day after the boys' engagement Mr. Kimball announced that a lot of brush in the vineyard needed burning, so that the ground might be cultivated. Adrian and Roger thought the task so much like play they asked to be allowed to build the fires.
Mr. Kimball was glad enough to have them undertake the task. Armed with long rakes the boys started up the hill and soon had heaped up several big piles of brush, dry leaves and twigs, which Adrian set fire to, taking care that none of the vines were scorched. A little wearied by his labors, Roger laid aside his rake, and while the flames were eating their way well into the debris, he strolled farther up the hill. It was rather a warm, pleasant day, and the woods, which stretched out before him, seemed to invite him to come in and see how the trees were putting on their full summer outfits of green leaves.
Before he realized it Roger had gone some distance from the vineyard, and only occasionally could he catch a glimpse of the smoke from the brush-wood fires. There was scarcely a sound to break the silence, save the pipingof some early birds, and the boy sat down on a rock under a big chestnut tree to rest. On a fallen log near him a bright green lizard crawled out to bask in the sunshine. Then a rustling in the dried leaves on the ground caught his ear. He looked in that direction to see a snake wriggle into view. He tossed a bit of bark toward the reptile and in an instant it had disappeared in alarm. The lad drew a long, deep breath, filling his lungs with the sweet, balmy spring odor of the woods,—a smell that seemed laden with health.
"My! But that's fine!" he exclaimed.
The next minute he was startled by a sound, as if some one had stepped on and broken a tree branch. Glancing up the hill he saw, rather indistinctly, some moving body.
"I guess it's a cow," he remarked.
Then he looked more closely.
"Two cows," he added, as he noted a second form. "No, it isn't either," he corrected himself a moment later, "it's two men," and he rose to get a better view. "It's Mr. Dudley and Mr. Ranquist. I guess they didn't want to wait until to-morrow to go prospecting. I wonder what they're doing on Uncle Bert's hill. I guess it won't do any harm to watch and find out. If they strike gold, or decide to run a railroad here, I might as well know it. I suspect those men are after something, and they're not telling what it is either," he concluded, rather wisely. "Well, here goes for a little detective work."
Using as much caution as if he was trailing some wild and timid animal, Roger slowly made his way up the hilland through the woods in the direction the two men had taken. He trod lightly, being careful not to step on any twigs or branches, which might snap and betray his presence. For he did not want the men to discover him. Not that he was doing anything wrong, or anything he had not a right to do, for the men were on his uncle's land, and Roger felt he should be interested in whatever they did. For a quarter of a mile he trailed after Mr. Dudley and Mr. Ranquist, easily keeping them in sight, yet remaining hidden himself, since they seemed to have no suspicion they were being followed.
In a little hollow, about three hundred feet away from the spring which burst out of the side hill, and which served to furnish drinking water for Mr. Kimball's house, the two men came to a halt. Roger hid himself behind a big stone, somewhat above them, to watch. Mr. Ranquist drew from his valise a number of pieces of metal, which he screwed together until he had a rod about a yard long. Then, with a hammer, he proceeded to drive this downward into the earth. When it had been forced almost out of sight he screwed another section on from above and drove this down, and so on, until he had sent the slender steel rod to a depth of twenty feet into the earth. Roger noticed that the blows of the hammer, as they struck, produced no sound beyond a dull thud, which, close as he was, he could scarcely hear.
"He must have rubber on the hammer," said the boy, "or something to deaden the blows. He's afraid some one will hear him. I wonder what in the world they can be upto? I must get a little nearer, so I can listen to what they are saying."
He was a little fearful about advancing any farther as he could not tell but that the sound of his movements might come to the ears of the men, now they had stopped walking and could hear better. He looked to see if he could approach under cover, and then he spied a fallen log, extending down hill, toward the centre of the little glade, in which the men were at work on their mysterious errand.
The farther end of the tree trunk was up against a large bowlder, behind which Roger might lie hidden, as secure as he was in the position he had first selected, if he could but reach it unobserved, and he thought he might by crawling along under the protecting shadow of the log. So with this end in view, he proceeded to act. He stretched out on his stomach, regardless of his clothes, like a big snake, and then he began to slowly wriggle toward the men.
It was not easy work, as he dared not raise himself more than a few inches from the ground without the danger of being seen above the log. Along the dried leaves and grass he went, pausing every few minutes to peep cautiously over his screen to see if the men were aware of his presence. They seemed all unsuspicious that they were being watched by a sharp-eyed lad, and continued to drive the rod deeper into the earth. At length, after about five minutes of cautious crawling, Roger reached the rock, and he curled himself up behind it with a sigh of satisfaction.
He was now within sixty feet of the men and couldeasily hear all they said, unless they spoke in whispers, which they were not likely to do. But the boy seemed to have had his trouble for his pains, for Mr. Dudley and Mr. Ranquist were not saying a word to each other. They were intent on the work, and Roger was keenly disappointed as, just before he started to crawl nearer, he had heard the murmur of their voices in earnest conversation.
But now Mr. Ranquist appeared to have used up all the sections of the steel rod. However, his valise had more tools in it, for he drew out a short iron handle, from which dangled a length of stout chain links. This chain he wound about the top part of the rod, which projected about a foot from the ground. The loose end of the links he fastened to the handle again. Then he and Mr. Dudley, taking a firm hold of the short bar, proceeded to twist the rod around in the earth. Roger watched them wonderingly. They spent five minutes in this operation, and then ceased, to sit down on the grass and rest.
"Do you think we'll strike it?" Roger heard Mr. Dudley ask his companion.
"Can't say for sure, but it looks very promising," was the reply.
"Is it gold, or is it oil?" Roger asked himself, softly.
Next, as he watched, he saw Mr. Ranquist take another tool from his valise, which seemed to contain the outfit of a small machine shop. This last instrument was like a lifting jack, very small and light, but exceedingly powerful. With it the two men easily pulled the rod up from where they had driven it in the ground, lifting it section bysection and unscrewing each one. They seemed to be eager and anxious as they came toward the end, and as the last piece of steel emerged from the small hole, they both bent forward and looked at it closely. They appeared much excited at what they saw, and Mr. Ranquist threw his hat in the air and capered about like a boy.
"Hurrah!" Roger heard him shout, softly, to be sure, for even in his excitement the engineer did not forget his caution. "Hurrah! We've struck it all right. Now to get hold of the land before any of the people about here suspect. I'll tell you, Dudley, our fortunes are made."
The older man seemed scarcely less excited than Mr. Ranquist. He wet his forefinger, touched the end of the rod with it, and then brought his finger to his tongue. He appeared to be tasting some substance. In a moment Mr. Ranquist followed his example, and then the look of triumph came on Mr. Dudley's face, as it had on the countenance of the younger engineer. Roger, forgetting his role of detective, raised himself up, trying to get a sight of the mysterious substance. In the gleam of the sun, on the point of the rod which Mr. Ranquist held, the boy beheld, rather faintly, however, the glitter of something white and sparkling, something that looked like the white crystals of snow.
Mr. Ranquist quickly whittled out a little stake from a tree branch and drove it into the small hole in the earth, whence he had drawn the rod. This done the men carefully packed their tools in the valise and started away. Roger watched them until they were out of sight. Then hehurried to the spot. He pulled up the stake, expecting to see something to disclose the mystery and reward him for his investigation. But there was nothing to indicate what the men had found that pleased them so.
Roger was greatly disappointed. But he comforted himself with the reflection that, at least, he was on the track of the mystery. He thought quickly and realized that some older head than his must take up the problem now. Yet whom could he tell? Mr. Kimball, he reasoned, would hardly be in a position to give an expert opinion as to what was under the earth. Then, too, he did not want to raise false hopes for his uncle that might be shattered after investigation. He could not imagine what it was the men had found, that they regarded as of such value. They evidently expected to find it, which added to the complications. How did they know at about that spot something was hidden under the surface? Clearly it must be some mineral substance Roger thought, but what? It didn't seem to be gold, unless it was in some peculiar form. Whatever it was, would it be worth the trouble that might be necessary before it could be come upon and dug out, unless some one, who knew just what they were searching after, did the work? And it was evident that the two men did possess this knowledge, which was so needful.
Roger was in a dilemma, but he resolved to discover a way out, if possible. Carefully marking the location of the stake, that he might find it again, he started home. He came into the vineyard just as his cousin was clearing up the last of the brush.
"Well," said Adrian, "I thought maybe you had gone to the house."
"No," answered Roger, "I was just walking in the woods for my health," and he smiled a little.
For certain reasons he did not want even Adrian to know what he had seen.