"Well, those sticks got on my nerves, and I made up my mind to fasten them up if such a thing were possible. So I put on my snow-shoes and began to rattle around in the storm to see what I could do. I thought no one could come up into the tool house from under because of the mass of snow all around, and because the dynamite box was so heavy with all of your and our and the McKenzies' sticks in it that it held the floor boards down with a vengeance. But I wasn't taking any chances after seeing what our 'friends the enemy' were capable of doing, so I got all the spike nails that Weimer had and nailed down the floor. Then I plowed through the storm up to Wilson's shack, shoveled my way in, collected all the tools that could be used to pry or hammer with and brought 'em back to our tool house. And with them, Ross, I brought a great padlock and chain that I recollected seeing up there rusty and unused. I oiled it and put a bar across the tool-house door and padlocked it. And if I do say it, it would cost a man some time and strength and racket to get into that shack. It would also take some tools, and there's none in the valley except what are behind that locked door, for before night came I had raided the McKenzie cabin and brought over all their tools. Then," continued Leslie, "I went to sleep feeling some better." "I'll bet you," cried Ross eagerly, "that it's because you fastened up the dynamite that you're here! I do believe that when Weston went back it would have been easier to cache that if he could have got it than to have brought you here." "I don't know, Ross." Leslie gave a short laugh. "It was easy enough to get me here, as easy as to get you. I--but you want the story as it comes." "Every word of it. Go on. The next day----" The next day, Leslie continued, so furious a blizzard was raging that he didn't work in the tunnel but spent the time keeping open the trails to the dump, the wood-pile and the spring. But the second day, the sky having cleared, he tried his best to get Weimer to work. "Ich vill vork mit Doc," was Uncle Jake's declaration of independence, "mit you, nein!" "You can imagine, Ross, how much work I did alone, not used to going ahead with the blasting. When I came down at noon the old fellow had dished up a capital dinner. He washed the dishes, but not one step would he budge to the tunnel. Said that you were likely to drop in any time that day and he'd stay in and watch for you. Said it would be work enough for him to do to fill you up after your long tramp through the snow! He simply boiled over with ready excuses. When I went up to the tunnel I left him with his goggles on, swinging open the door about once in two minutes for a look over on Soapweed Ledge. You know it was clear that day and----" Here Leslie suddenly paused and sat up with a jerk. He gripped the arms of the chair and gave a startled exclamation.