“It won’t be much of a job to get her off,” declared Mr. Martin, when he and his sons had made an expert examination. “Get some long poles, boys, and some blocks, and I think half an hour’s work will do the trick.”
“Oh, shall we be able to move soon?” asked Mrs. MacCall, coming out on deck.
“We hope so,” answered Ruth, as she went on board and told of the visit to the cabin, while Neale hurried to the engine room to see what success Hank had met with. The mule driver had succeeded in getting the monkey wrench out from under the flywheel, and the craft could move under her own power once she was afloat.
“What’s the matter with Neale?” asked Mrs. MacCall, while the men were in the woods getting the poles. “He looks as if all the joy had departed from life.”
“I’m afraid it has, for him,” said Ruth soberly. “It seems that his father is located near here—on Cedar Island—and is poor.”
“Nothing in that to take the joy out of life!” And Mrs. MacCall strode away.
“Well, being poor isn’t anything,” declared Agnes. “Lots of people are poor. We were, before Uncle Peter Stower left us the Corner House.”
“I think Neale fears his father may have had something to do with— Oh, Agnes, I hate to say it, but I think Neale believes his father either robbed us, or knows something about the men who took the jewelry box!”
“But we know it isn’t true!” exclaimed Agnes.
“Anyway, the Klondike trip was a failure.”