Good luck seemed to be with the boys, for they found more bones than ever Adrian had hoped for. The bag got so heavy they could hardly carry it, and so were forced to make a trip back to the house, to get rid of the load.
"We must have fifty pounds there," reckoned Adrian, proudly, as he piled the contents of the bag in a heap back of the barn, "and there's fifty more we can get to-day. Not bad for a start, eh, Roger? One hundred pounds of fertilizer. That's fifty cents."
"I call it fine," said Roger. "But of course we can't expect to do as well as this every day."
"No, we'll have to tramp farther for our next hundred pounds," agreed Adrian, as they started off on their second trip.
They went over the fields and roads. The bag was almost full a second time when Adrian, who had picked up a smooth, round stone to throw, stopped short as it fell in the midst of some corn stubble, with a resounding clang.
"That hit something," he declared, as he set off on a run, much to the surprise of Roger. "Hurrah! I thought so," shouted Adrian a second later, as he stooped over where he had seen the stone fall. He held up to view a battered old wash-boiler.
"What good is that?" asked Roger.
"Good? Why, can't you see it has a copper bottom. Copper brings fifteen cents a pound from the junk man, and there's three pounds here."
He caught up a heavy sharp rock and soon had cut and hammered the bottom off the boiler, the upper part of which was of tin. The copper he beat up into a compact mass and placed it in the bag with the bones. Then having a pretty good load, the boys started home. On the way Adrian came across a large bottle, which he picked up.
"I wish I knew where there were a lot of these," he remarked.