"It beats the Dutch how much that yard of stovepipe sticking out there adds to her looks," observed Mr. Dean when the stove had been set up.
"It isn't the stovepipe so much," replied Chuck, "as it is the smoke coming out of it."
"What pipe are you talking about?" inquired Sleepy as he dropped down out of the new bunk to inspect the work the others had been doing since noon. "Who's smoking a pipe?" he persisted, not understanding the conversation.
"The cabin," tersely remarked Chuck. "But it has to get warm before it can smoke, and it has to work before it can get warm. The cabin might teach you a lesson."
Later in the afternoon there was a great commotion a little distance up the trail, and Mr. Allen hastened to investigate the shouting and sounds of chopping. To his great disgust he found Sleepy dealing heavy blows to an old pine tree with an ax while the perspiration was running down his face. He was prancing about in great excitement.
"What on earth?" questioned Mr. Allen.
"I'm trying to get a squirrel. I saw him up in this tree just a moment ago," cried Sleepy.
"Is that all you can find to do to use up your energy?" asked Mr. Allen dryly. Sleepy looked at him sheepishly, then hung his head and slowly returned to the cabin, brought a pail of water from the stream, then crawled up into the bunk, out of sight.
By the time things were straightened around in the cabin so that the mason could build the fireplace it was time to be starting home, but every one was too tired from the day's work. They decided they would rest in the cool shade for an hour before beginning the tramp down. It would then be twilight.
Willis took this occasion to do a little exploring on his own account. He had worked faithfully all day and was very tired, but he did so want to find his father's mine before he went home this time. He slipped away unobserved and took the lower trail, which followed up to the remains of the second bridge, then climbed to the tumbled-down cabin they had found the first day. Here he took the trail that led far up into the timber. Finally he saw far up above him what appeared to be an old mine dump. Quickly he clambered up over rocks and rotting logs toward it, and in a few moments he stood on the dump itself, which was of hard black stone, with the exception of just a little quartz. He was sure it was the same kind of stone he had seen on the old mantle at his grandfather's. The quartz was apparently the last stone dumped.