“Let’s go look at it,” Bob proposed, as he started jumping from log to log, closely followed by Jack.
Mr. Golden and Rex followed much more slowly, as they had to be more careful where they stepped.
“I don’t see any rock,” Bob declared a moment later, as he stood on the log reaching out over the water.
“Neither could I till I got my eyes close down to it,” Jack retorted.
“You’re right, as usual,” he acknowledged a moment later, after he had followed Jack’s example. “And what’s more, I believe that’s the log that’s doing the trick.”
By this time Mr. Golden and Rex had joined them, and after they too had stretched out on the log, they agreed with Bob.
Jean, who at the moment was working well over toward the opposite shore, raised his head at the shout.
“Come here a minute,” Mr. Golden ordered, beckoning with his hand.
Jean, peavey in hand, came running to them.
“What do you think of it?” Bob asked a moment later, after Jack had pointed out the situation to him.
“I tink heem bout right,” and the Frenchman cast an admiring glance toward Jack. “I tink heem key log, oui.”
“See if you can budge it,” Mr. Golden proposed.
But although Jean sank the sharp end of his peavey deep into the log and exerted all his great strength, he was unable to move it.
“Have to feex heem wid powder, oui,” he panted after he had pushed and pulled for some minutes.
“It’s going to be a pretty hard job to get the dynamite in the right place don’t you think, Jean?” Jack asked.
“Oui, heem be ver’ hard but I feex heem,” and the Frenchman started for the shore while the others sat down on a log to await his return.
It was only a short time before they saw him coming back unwinding a coil of wire as he stepped from log to log.
“Where are you going to place it?” Jack asked, as Jean reached them and took two sticks of dynamite from his pocket.
“I have geet heem down close by dat rock, oui,” Jean replied as he took off his heavy calked boots and rolled up his trousers.
“He isn’t going to step in that ice cold water, is he?” Rex whispered to Jack, who was standing close by him.
“He doesn’t mind that,” Jack laughed. “You see a river driver’s feet are wet about all the time he is on the drive, and they get used to it.”
“But I should think they would catch their death of cold,” Rex declared.