CHAPTER VI

THE RACE IS ON

“And now for the lakeside secret,” exclaimed Barney, tossing the last fish upon the pile, and throwing his frosty pole aside.

Eagerly Bruce sprang to his feet.  Together they raced around the pool.  Clambering over the tumbled avalanches of snow, they were soon within sight of the strange triangle.  Barney’s heart beat fast.  What was it?  Could it be only a bit of bent timber lodged there on the log-roof of a long-abandoned Indian shack?  Or was it—­was it what he knew Bruce hoped it might be—­a supply-house for gasoline, or perhaps a motor-boat with a supply of gasoline on board?

Excitedly they attacked the piles of snow.  Lacking shovels, they worked with hands and feet.  Hope grew with every kick and scoop.  This was no mere bit of timber, nor yet an abandoned shack; it was too recently built to leave a doubt about that.  And now they had reached the top of the door.

“I say we’ve found it,” panted Bruce, redoubling his efforts.

“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.

“Well,” said Barney, sitting on a bedon, and kicking his heels against its steel side, “now we can take the Major to the moon, or any other did place he wishes to go; that is, if we want to.”

For a long time Bruce was silent.  Now that the excitement was over he realized he was homesick.  Then, too, the dangers of yesterday had shaken his nerves.  He was thinking, also, of La Vaune working her way through the academy when money, much money, belonging to her lay idle; and of Timmie, who awaited their return to assist him in the retrieving of his good name.  But there came the after-thought:  had it not been for the Major’s trust in him and in Barney, none of these things would have been possible.  Yes, they owed a debt to the Major and that debt must be paid.