“Fooled again, Sellick!” said the journeyman carpenter. And the cry went through the crowd, “Jack’s got away! he has gone through the culvert under the canal!”
Sellick ran to the top of the bank and looked eagerly across,—a great crowd following him. Only the level tow-path met his eye, and a horizon of far-off forest-tops beyond: not even the saw-mill was visible, to say nothing of the race into which the culvert conducted the pond water. The whole country fell away in that direction towards Lake Ontario, which lay behind the billowy line of forest-tops.
To make any discoveries on the other side of the high embankments, which carried the canal over what had once been a narrow valley opening out into the broad, low country, it would of course be necessary to cross to the tow-path. But there was no bridge nearer than the village, and Sellick did not like to get wet. So he called out to the two swimmers, now diligently looking for Jack in the pond after it had been shown that he wasn’t there, “Hello! Len and Harry! go through the culvert and see what you can see!”
“Will you, Harry?” said Len.
“No, I won’t go through the culvert, for any constable!” replied Harry.
“Nor I neither, if you won’t,” said Len; the culvert being generally regarded with superstition by village bathers. “There’s water-snakes in it!”
“If the mill should start, we couldn’t swim back against the current,” Harry answered Sellick.
“Then hurry up here, and cross the canal; come, you’ve got your clothes off!” cried Sellick.
“What do you say, Harry?” asked Len.
“I d’n’ know, I do’ wanter!” replied Harry.