"Why, of course it does," said Cindy, who knew very well that she had finally succeeded in putting at least a small dent in his armor. Alec would not be able to stop thinking about a genuine Indian cave. "And if you're finished with breakfast, you'd better get at it."
Carrying a double-bitted axe, a maul, a buck-saw, and three iron wedges, Alec went into the oak grove. As she washed the dishes, Cindy heard him chopping. There was indeed, she told herself, work to be done, and work was a noble thing. Reverend Thomas, back in Missouri, had always said that labor was blessed in the sight of the Lord. But Cindy was sure in her own heart that the Lord might look with understanding upon those who yearned to explore caves too.
Alec went into the oak grove
Cindy bided her time. In his own way, Alec was stubborn as any mule. His mind had to be changed in much the same manner as a mule's. Cindy thought of the five big fish still trapped in the pool.
Alec liked fish. Today, as a special treat, she had intended to catch one and cook it for him. It would still be a good idea, Cindy thought, if it were changed a bit. There came the scrape of Alec's saw as he began cutting a tree into fencepost lengths.
Cindy wandered down to the creek, and now she didn't have to worry nearly as much about being seen. Almost all the men were in Plains City awaiting a chance to record their claims. Cindy stripped to her underwear, waded across, snared another fish, and took it back to camp. Alec came in for a drink of water, and he used a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his face.