Neither Bob or Rex deigned to reply to the remark. They were too busy getting back their breath, and for several moments no one spoke.
“How about it, children?” Jack asked at the end of perhaps ten minutes. “Think you can try it again?”
“I guess so, mighty chief,” Rex replied and all laughed.
“Get your poles in behind there, then,” Jack ordered, “while I raise anchor.”
But the anchor would not rise. He tugged and pulled until his breath came in gasps, but it would not budge.
“That rock must have got wedged in between two others down there,” he finally announced as he gave it up for a moment.
“Wait a minute and we’ll push her up above and you can try it the other way,” Bob suggested.
Both pushing at the rear Bob and Rex forced the scow foot by foot up against the current until the rope was pulling on the stone from the other direction. Jack was right in his surmise that the anchor had gotten wedged in between two other rocks, for a good hard pull now brought it up.
Twice more they were obliged to “lower anchor” and rest.
“It seems as though we must have stuck these poles into every square inch of the river within a mile of here,” Jack declared as he started to pull the stone up for another try. “Do you suppose we’re anywhere near the old pier?”