What it was, you will learn as our story progresses.
The second attempt to recover the lost weapon resulted in failure, and so did the third and fourth; but the fifth was successful. A hand, grasping the little double-barrel, suddenly appeared above the surface of the water, followed an instant after by the persevering diver, who was as highly elated over his achievement as Bob Howard was himself.
“George,” said he, as he grasped the gun and began rubbing it briskly with his handkerchief, “I don’t know how to thank you for the service you have rendered me.”
“Then you had better not try,” advised George, with a laugh. “That’s a beautiful little piece, and well worth saving. Now, I wish I could give Dick his canoe in good order.”
“Thank you! But that is something that nobody this side of Troy can do. She is made of paper.”
George, who had never before heard of such a thing as a paper canoe, opened his eyes and looked incredulous; but when he had pulled over to the rocks and taken a look at the wreck that was stranded there, he found that Dick had told him nothing but the truth. The little craft had been torn completely in two. The stern was nowhere to be seen, and the bow was wedged so tightly between the rocks that they could not get it out.
“I say, Bob, take the butt of your oar and break a hole through the bottom,” said Dick. “Perhaps we shall find something in there.”
And so they did.
Through the opening that Bob’s heavy oar speedily made in the frail covering he gained access to the forward locker, from which he drew forth two jointed fishing-rods, and also a liberal supply of canned goods, such as salmon, lobsters, condensed milk, and fried brook trout.
He likewise brought to light a canister of ground coffee, about half a peck of potatoes, and lastly, a water-proof bag, which, on being opened, was found to contain a quantity of crackers, bread, and ginger-snaps, and also two blackberry pies.