In Johnny’s pocket was a bundle of tough paper bags. Slung across his shoulder was a sack of pulverized charcoal. In a sling, Donald carried a jug of liquid air. “Looks like a water jug,” Donald laughed. “One drink from that jug would be your last. Two hundred and sixteen below zero!”
“We saw a bear on this trail a while back,” Johnny broke in. “He had a young pig in his mouth. Somebody’s got to get that bear. Old Uncle Mose lost another pig last night.”
“What if we met him now?” Donald stared ahead.
“Probably miles away,” Johnny replied quietly.
A moment later they rounded a curve and, off to the right, a dark opening appeared.
“That’s the cave,” Johnny explained. “Grand place I guess. Bear went in there.”
“Suppose he’s in there now?” Donald’s tone was eager.
“Probably not.”
“Let’s just go in a little way. Always did want to see the inside of a cave. I’ve got a flashlight.”
“All right. Can’t stay long though. We’ve got to blow up a coal mine. Don’t forget that.”