Mr. Caldwell looked at Ronnie questioningly, not knowing whether to take the boy’s remark seriously or as some kind of joke. “Are you fooling?” he asked.
“Oh no. In a year or two, when they build the dams on the St. Lawrence Seaway, this’ll all be under water. Gramps is furious, but Dad says he can’t do anything about it.”
“What a pity. What a great pity!” Mr. Caldwell exclaimed. “I’m certainly glad I decided to come here when I did.”
Mr. Caldwell’s alarm clock showed four-thirty. Bill suggested that they start work cleaning up the main building where the glass had been manufactured and packed. “We’ll never get started showing people around at the rate we’re going,” he told Ronnie and Phil.
Ronnie, of course, didn’t need any convincing. He would work all night if it would step up their opening date. Phil tagged along reluctantly.
They managed to cart five or six loads of the larger debris from the building and dump it in the woods out of sight, and then Bill announced that it was probably time for him to get home. He had chores to do before supper, and so did Ronnie and Phil.
They walked back to the office together. Bill wanted to gather up his tools to take home. “I’ve got to be sure to get these back,” he explained. “A couple of nights ago a saw and hammer and a couple of other tools disappeared from the barn, and Pa insists I took them and left them somewhere.”
“We haven’t been using any tools like that,” Ronnie said indignantly.
They walked down the cobbled road to where their paths separated. “You know,” Bill suggested, “we could work on the sign tonight and leave the cleaning up for the daytime. Think you could get away for a while after supper?”
“Sure,” said Ronnie. He turned to his brother. “Want to come too, Phil?”