"Wait. Don't hope too much," gasped Barney, tossing aside snow like a dog burrowing for a rabbit.
The door had a spring padlock on it. Barney, hurrying to the lake for some pieces of ice, cracked the lock as he would a nut between stones. Then, prying the door open a bit at the top, he tried to peer in.
"Dark," he muttered. "Can't see a thing."
Breathlessly they resumed work.
And now the door was free to the very bottom. It was Bruce's turn. Forcing the door open a foot, he took one good look, then let out a whoop.
"Gasoline!" he shouted. "Bedons of it!"
"May be empty," suggested Barney.
"I'll see," said Bruce. An instant more, and having crowded himself through the narrow space, he struck a hundred-gallon steel bedon with his fist. No hollow sound came from it.
"Full," he exclaimed, and, the strain over, sank to the floor with a sigh of relief.
The more hardy Barney began to explore the place. To the back was a small gasoline launch, apparently in perfect condition. Ranged along the right wall were the bedons, five of them, all full but one, and each containing a hundred gallons.