There are two kinds." "Yes; some are larger than the others.

Shall we open a few of them, to see if they've been destroyed by time ?" "No, not yet," replied Vince thoughtfully.

"Let's go and have a look at that boat sail and the oars.

Those oars ought to be old and worm-eaten--ready to tumble to pieces--and the sail-cloth like so much tinder!" Mike nodded, and followed him rather unwillingly; for the keg nearest to his hand fascinated him, and he longed intensely to force out the head.
It was not many steps to where the boat gear stood and lay, and Vince began to haul it about after the first glance.
"Look here, Ladle!" he cried; "these things are not so very old.

The canvas is as strong as can be, and it can't be so many years since these oars were marked with a hot iron." "Oh, nonsense!" said Mike, who did not like to give up his cherished ideas; "it's because they're so dry and safe here." "It isn't," said Vince impetuously; "and look here, at all these footmarks!" "Well, what's to prevent them from being just the same after a hundred years ?" "The wind," cried Vince.