As heat doesn't get in here in warm weather the ice may have been here for generations.

Fellows, we may be looking upon ice that was here when George Washington was a boy." "I've read, somewhere," declared Tom soberly, "that icebergs that float down from the polar regions in spring often represent ice that is at least ten thousand years old.

Fellows, some of this very ice may have been here in this cave long, long before Julius Caesar went into the soldiering business!" That thought had somewhat of an awesome effect upon Dick & Co.
The four high school boys felt as though they were in the presence of great antiquity.
"But the practical side of it," declared Tom, "is that we must devise the best way of cutting some of this ice and getting it across the lake to the camp." "Oh, you can break off enough for making ice water," replied Dave Darrin impatiently, "and take it over in the canoe, though the spring water is cold enough for anybody." "All of Dave's thoughts are still on the man of mystery," Dick declared, with a chuckle.
"It's much more interesting than standing here figuring on how to get ice that we don't need," retorted Darry.
"Now, as to moving this stuff to the camp," Tom went on, "it seems to me-----" "Of course," laughed Dick.

"It has already struck you that we can fell a few small trees and build a raft on which we can tow a few hundred pounds of ice at a time." "Oh, pshaw!" fidgeted Dave.

"I am anxious to find the man of mystery." "That isn't anything practical," scoffed Tom Reade, "while in hot weather a good supply of ice is eminently practical." "You'll think there's a practical side to the man of mystery and his cronies when to-night comes, and there's so much noise about the camp that we miss another night's rest," hinted Darry sagely.
"Humph!" was Tom's greeting to that assertion.