“Where are you going to place it?” Jack asked, as Jean reached them and took two sticks of dynamite from his pocket.
“I have geet heem down close by dat rock, oui,” Jean replied as he took off his heavy calked boots and rolled up his trousers.
“He isn’t going to step in that ice cold water, is he?” Rex whispered to Jack, who was standing close by him.
“He doesn’t mind that,” Jack laughed. “You see a river driver’s feet are wet about all the time he is on the drive, and they get used to it.”
“But I should think they would catch their death of cold,” Rex declared.
“So would I, but they don’t seem to,” Jack laughed. “I guess they must be immune or something of the kind.”
While they were talking the object of Rex’s concern had walked out on the overhanging log and had swung himself off to the rock. As he stood on it the icy water was well above his knees, but as Rex afterward declared he did not so much as shiver, Feeling with his toes he soon found a place to his liking and in another minute he had the two cylinders of dynamite securely fastened between the rock and the key log.
“Now we soon know if she go bust,” he declared as he jumped back to the log and quickly drew on his heavy woolen socks and boots.
They all followed him to the shore where he had left the battery.
“You found the key, if that’s the one, and it’s up to you to press the button, Jack,” Mr. Golden declared, as they waited for the rest of the crew to join them.