Alice and Carl were waiting anxiously for them, and they poured out the news of their discovery—news of such importance that it temporarily swamped every other interest.
“Oh, Joe! It’s splendid of you to want to put all that into the bees!” Alice exclaimed. “I feel as if we shouldn’t let you, but I can’t resist the temptation.”
“Don’t worry. You couldn’t hinder me. But remember, we haven’t got it yet,” Joe returned. “Those men might come back at any moment.”
“Evidently they’ve had it here all this time,” said Bob. “We might have found it the first time we struck that place if we’d had more time to look. We thought they’d finished melting up the rosin, but they must have only commenced. They didn’t dare to do it while we’ve been here, so they covered it up and hid it. No wonder they’ve been in a hurry for us to move!”
“But can we sell the stuff in the rough, just as it is?” Carl asked.
“Oh, yes,” Joe assured him. “Of course, we wouldn’t get quite so much as if it were refined, but any turpentine-camp will buy it. We might send it to Harper’s camp about half-way down to Mobile. I know Harper, and he’ll treat us right on it.”
“But how’ll we get it there?” Carl exclaimed.
This was the crux of the question. For some moments there was silence, while they pondered.
“I’ve been thinking of that,” said Joe, slowly. “So far as I can see, the only way will be to load it into that barge down by the river and have the steamboat take it when she comes back.”
“Ship the rosin instead of the bees?” cried Alice.