“Not a bit—why?”
“Well, it isn’t much fun to ask you out west on a vacation and then set you to heaving rocks.”
“We aren’t doing this for work—it’s because we want to find out something,” declared Chot. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”
“No, I don’t. If we can only show Uncle Tod how to get back the water of Lost River—cracky! Wouldn’t he be surprised?”
“I’ll say he would!” ejaculated Chot.
It was no easy task the boys had set for themselves, for the stone pile was large, and many of the boulders in it were of great size. But they were Scouts and not accustomed to give up a task just because it was difficult.
The smaller stones they tossed out of their way, and the larger ones, some only after many trials, were rolled down the side of the valley after being dislodged by tree-branch levers.
Once, just before noon, Chot straightening up to ease his back, looked toward the hole under the twisted tree roots.
“There’s Ruddy at the bob cat’s den again,” he remarked.
“I’m not sure it’s a bob cat,” said Rick, “but he certainly is there,” and he looked toward where Ruddy was now trying to enlarge the hole by digging away the dirt at the lower edge. “Come here, Ruddy!” called Rick.