"And that is what we must get," exclaimed Jack. "Is the door of that shanty locked, Mr. Roebach?"
"It's nothing but a skin door," replied the oil man. "But it's at the far side—fronting that old mud-slinger. Did you ever see the beat of that? That stone must have weighed fifty pounds."
But Jack Darrow noticed a certain fact. That was that the debris from the spouter was not shot so high as at first. Therefore, it was not being spread abroad so far.
Only small stones, now, were dropping around the tool shed. And the rear wall of the shanty was made of the most flimsy material.
Suddenly he slipped down to one side and got upon the level of the valley. Nobody but Mark noticed his movements for a minute, and to him Jack had given a warning glance.
The boy had crossed to the back of the tool-shed before the men of the party noticed his absence from the knoll.
"Look at that reckless fellow!" ejaculated the professor. "Come back here, Jack!"
But Master Jack was already at the shed. He tore away a part of the rear wall in a moment. The mud rained down upon him, but fortunately no rock came his way.
There was light enough yet for him to see inside the hut. Andy Sudds had already started after Jack, and when the latter dragged the small forge out of the shelter, the old hunter picked it up, flung it upon his shoulder, and trotted back to the highland.
"Come away! Come away, Jack!" cried the professor again.