"But I apprehend a difficulty; it is not easy to make water run up hill."
Jack smiled, and blushed a little, at Betterson's polite condescension in making this mild objection.
"Water running down hill may force itself up another hill, if confined in pipes, I think you will concede."
"Most assuredly. But it will not rise again higher than its source. And the spring is lower than we are,—lower than our kitchen sink."
"I don't quite see that," replied Jack, with the air of a candid inquirer. "I have been over the ground, and it didn't strike me so."
"It certainly looks to be several feet lower," said Betterson; and the boys agreed with him.
"We generally speak of going down to the spring," said Rufe. "We go down the road, then down the bank of the ravine, and then a little way up the other bank. I don't know how we can tell just how much lower it is. We can't see the spring from the house."
"If I had my instruments here, I could tell you which is lower, and how much lower, pretty soon. While I am waiting for Snowfoot, (I can't go home, you know, without Snowfoot!) I may, perhaps, do a bit of engineering, as it is."