“How did you ever come to think of it?” asked Rob, as Paul shut off the engine and climbed out of his seat.
“Why, it was last winter,” explained Paul, “you remember the inlet was frozen, and we had iceboat races on it? Well, I was watching them, and thinking why it wouldn’t be possible to make an ice motor-boat. First off, I couldn’t see how to do it. I figured around, however, and at last I thought out a way. But I didn’t have money enough to buy a motor, so I gave up the idea. Then Higgins’ auto blew up and took fire. He was disgusted, and when I offered him a small price for the engine he was delighted. He wouldn’t take anything for it, in fact. He figured that the fire had spoiled it. So it had, pretty well, but I fixed it up—and—well, there she is, and what do you think of her?”
“Think?” exclaimed Rob. “I think she is a Jim Dandy, just as Merritt said. But, Paul, will she run on the ice?”
“Don’t see why not. The propeller has tremendous driving power. I wish it would hurry up and freeze, I’m dying to try her out.”
“I’ll bet you are. It will be a long time yet to frost, though. In the meantime, what do you say to taking a little trip out to-morrow afternoon to the old De Regny place? It will make a good walk.”
“What on earth do you want to go out there for?” asked Tubby in a surprised tone.
“I have a reason,” rejoined Rob. “I’ll tell you about it to-morrow. Do you fellows want to go?”
“Of course, but you’re mighty mysterious about it,” grumbled Merritt.
“Hush! Maybe he’s found a corned beef mine!” exclaimed Tubby in a low, cautious voice.
“A corned beef mine? Why, I never heard of such a thing,” exclaimed Paul seriously.
“Didst not, little one?” chirped Tubby. “My uncle found one in northern Montana.”
“Yes, sir,” went on Tubby, winking at the others, “it’s an interesting thing to a fellow like you, Paul, who is fond of scientific research and—and all that sort of thing. Shall I tell you how it occurred?”
“Please do,” begged Paul, sitting down on the edge of his invention and composing himself comfortably.
“Well,” began Tubby, with the air of one who has deliberated long and seriously over a matter, “it was this way. One fall my uncle, who had been mining all summer, figured it was about time to get out of those northern Montana mountains. He decided, though, before he left, to put in the biggest blast ever heard of, so that when he came back in the spring he could have plenty of rock to work. In due course, he set the blast off, and discovered, to his astonishment, that the explosion had uncovered a regular cliff of reddish-brown substance, interveined with what looked like the finest jelly.”