“But I’ll bet they don’t just the same,” he whispered.
“Dees water heem bon cold,” another of the Frenchmen declared, as he shivered only a few feet from where they were crouched.
“Well, we geet good pay, oui,” still another broke in. “Come on, we hit trail ver’ queek, geet warm.”
Their voices gradually grew fainter and soon they were out of hearing altogether.
“I’ll bet that water was cold,” Jack laughed as he straightened up and stretched his arms.
“Don’t be in a hurry,” Bob cautioned. “We want to give them plenty of time to get far enough away so that they won’t see us as we’ll probably have to use the flash, and remember, they can’t travel very fast in this snow.”
So they waited for nearly an hour in spite of Jack’s grumbling.
“Better be careful than sorry,” Bob told him when he urged haste. “We’ve got all night.”
But finally even careful Bob was convinced that it would be safe to proceed with their undertaking, and using the flash more freely than they had heretofore, they made their way down to the river’s edge. Here, as they expected, they discovered a square-nosed scow about twelve feet long and nearly half that wide.
“Do you think that there’s any danger of getting tipped over in that boat?” Rex asked in a tone which he tried to make sound anxious.