“Then if you can’t find anything valuable in this clay you’ll advise her to sell?” asked Ned.
“I think so. And from the fact that several persons have tried to find some use for this yellow mud, and have failed, I’m not very hopeful,” went on Jerry. “But it would be a fine thing if mother could make some money out of this swamp land. For she has lost considerable of late.”
“Has she?” asked Bob, sympathetically. “I thought you said a few days ago that it wasn’t much.”
“It’s turned out worse since then,” and Jerry’s usually smiling face wore a worried look. “In fact, fellows, my mother may be very glad to sell this swamp land,” he went on.
“No wonder he was absent-minded,” confided Bob to Ned in a whisper, as they got in the motor boat, while Jerry was busy loosing the bow line.
“Yes—I had no idea the trouble was so serious,” admitted Ned. “Well, we’ll help him if we can.”
“That’s what!” agreed the stout youth, heartily.
On the way down Cabbage Creek the boys talked of the clay-diggers, speculating as to what could be their object. But they could arrive at no definite conclusion.
“I wonder if you’re of any use after all?” exclaimed Jerry, kicking the lump of yellow clay at his feet.
“It might be good to caulk a boat,” suggested Ned, “and I see we’ve got a little leak here,” he added, as he pointed to some water in the pit below the flywheel of the motor.