They were once more on the hill-road, and nearing the point of danger. Great piles of saw-logs, ready for the saw-mill, had accumulated on the slope between the mill and what was now the shore; and already quite a number of adventurers had crossed upon them to the building itself, and back again. Not a soul had cared to remain more than a minute, and none had ventured beyond.
"Go, Joshua," said Mrs. Farnham. "He'll need advice, if he doesn't need any thing else."
Corry took the reins, and his father and Vosh stepped out. There were thirty or forty men and boys standing around and watching the flood, and all were eager to know what was coming; but the answers given them had a short, gruff sound, as if uttered by somebody too much in earnest to talk.
"Right along, Vosh," said the deacon. "The logs are firm enough."
So they were, and it was easy to climb through an open window into the second story of the mill. Through all the lower floor the water was rushing and gurgling, and the building shook all over as if it were chilly.
An opposite window was reached, and there before them was the ice-pack. Only at one point, beyond the centre, was there any water going over it; and it seemed only too strong and solid.
"As far out as you can, Vosh," said the deacon. "Put it into a hole of some kind, if you can."
Without a word of comment or reply, the brave boy crept through the window, and let himself down upon the ice, and the keg was handed him.
"Use the whole length of the fuze," said the deacon. "You'll have time enough."
"Mr. Farnham," said Vosh, "you go back right away, now."