“It seems as though we must have stuck these poles into every square inch of the river within a mile of here,” Jack declared as he started to pull the stone up for another try. “Do you suppose we’re anywhere near the old pier?” “Well, of course, it’s pretty hard to be sure in the dark,” Bob replied. “But it doesn’t seem as though we can be very far off. What’s your idea?” “Don’t know’s I have any,” the boy replied. “Only I’m getting a little tired of poking holes in the water here and have ’em fill up so quick that you can’t tell whether we’ve been here before or not.” “You’re getting a bit mixed I’m afraid,” Bob laughed. “But let’s try once more and if we don’t hit it we’ll go into a committee of the whole and discuss ways and means.” “The moon’s coming up anyhow. Perhaps that will help,” Rex said. “Mebby, but I don’t see how.” Rex knew that Jack was trying to be cheerful. But their search was nearly at an end for they had pushed the scow hardly fifty feet when its bottom was scraping and in another moment they had come to a stop. “Hurrah! I guess we’ve hit it,” Jack shouted as he at once “heaved the anchor.” “And it’s about time we did,” Bob added. A rapid investigation with the peaveys proved that they had at last hit the right spot and they lost no time in setting about demolishing the pier. The water, at this point, was only about two feet deep and Bob explained that in the summer, when the water was low, a good-sized island occupied the center of the river at that point. It was slow work tearing the pier down with their peaveys, for some of the rocks were as large as a strong man would want to lift, and there were a good many of them. “If this water wasn’t so blooming cold we could roll up our trowsers and do it in a short time,” Bob declared after they had been at work for the better part of an hour. “This way suits me all right,” Jack assured him, and Rex also showed no inclination to adopt Bob’s suggestion. “I guess you’re about right,” Bob assented. “We’re getting there slow but sure.” They kept steadily at the work for another hour and had about completed the task when a sudden interruption happened. CHAPTER XIII A DIFFERENT KIND OF A RACE Bob had just announced that he thought they had lowered the pier so that there would be no danger of the logs catching when Rex, who had happened to glance toward the shore, said: “There’s someone over there on the shore.” The moon had, by this time risen high in the heavens and was giving light sufficient to enable them to see for some distance. Light from two lanterns greeted their sight as Bob and Jack looked quickly shoreward. “Who do you suppose it is?” Jack whispered. “Don’t know unless it’s the fellows that built this pier,” Bob replied. “Seems to me that I can make out four or five forms there,” he added straining his eyes. “So can I,” Jack agreed. “But what could have brought them back here?” he asked.