"It might be dynamite. Not for me! Here goes!" and he carefully set the can down under a bush.
"Yes," said the other man. "You are right. Those two fellows were up to most anything. We will get Mulligan. He could smell dynamite," and with that they turned, took a new path toward the shore, and were soon sailing off in their boat.
For a few moments neither of the three, who were standing there watching, spoke. Then Cora's face brightened.
"They are ours, Laurel's," she said, "and we have a right to take them."
"But the law is queer on such points," Jack argued. "I have known men to be put in jail for what they call interfering with an officer when the officer could not do just what he wanted to with some spunky citizen. I should not like to touch the can of red paint."
"But my father," said Laurel, in the most pleading of tones. "Think what it means! How we have suffered; and now, when this is at our very hands!"
"But suppose it were something other than the papers," cautioned
Jack. "Those men had a pretty bad reputation."
"I will take all the risks," declared Cora, and before Jack could detain her she ran to the bush, pushed it aside, and grasped the can.
Jack hurried to take it from her. "Let me have it, Cora; if there is a risk it must be mine."
"All right, Jack dear," she replied, "I am sure there is nothing in it heavier than papers. Wouldn't you think those men could have guessed that?"