"What do you think of that?" inquired Will, mysteriously.
Ted racked his brain for a suitable reply. He could gather no clew
to Will's purpose, so he remarked:
"Very nice, healthy looking mud, seems to me? Going to sell it for
brown paint?"
"Paint!" exclaimed Will, scornfully. "But how long do you suppose
that tub has been there?"
"Looks as if it had been there from the year one," replied Ted, still
hopelessly adrift.
"_I_ put _it_ there just three weeks ago!" said Will, watching
his brother's face.
"You _did!_" said Ted, blankly. Then a light dawned upon him.
"But that's mighty quick work!" he continued. "You don't mean to tell
me that all that mud was deposited by the tide in three weeks!"
"Every bit of it!" averred Will. "You see the Tantramar water is just
loaded with silt. It has so much that the moment it stops to rest
it throws down as much of the load as it can. When it gets moving,
regularly under way, it has to pick it up again. But the longer it
stops the more it throws down; and the slower it moves the less it
picks up again. Inside the tub it is always slack water, so whatever
falls there stays there. That's why the tub has filled up so quick.
Nearly a foot and a half in three weeks! Why, Ted, a raise of a foot
and a half along the outer slope of this cove, and we could dike in
the whole cove. See?"
Ted's eyes grew round and triumphant at the suggestion.
"But how can it be done?" he asked
"Won't we have to wait till the tide does it for us?" and his tone
dropped gradually from elation to dejection.
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