The hammering stopped. Artie was working in the darkest corner.
"I'm building a raft," he announced coolly. "I want to get it done before Daddy comes to-morrow night."
"Why don't you build it somewhere near the water?" Fred asked. "I should think you'd know it has to be carried down somehow."
"Well, I guess a horse can pull it, can't he?" said Artie. "Lots of boats are built where there isn't any water. I've seen them on freight cars."
So had Fred. But his common sense told him that when one lived almost across the street from the ocean, the beach was the place to construct a raft.
"Where did you get your hammer and nails, Artie?" he asked curiously. "And the boards? It must take heavy boards to build a raft."
"They're already nailed together," Artie informed him. "I only have to put on a couple of cross-pieces and it will be done."
"But I think you're an awful chump to build it in the barn," persisted Fred. "You can't see in that dark corner, either. And why get up in the middle of the night to build a raft?"
"It isn't the middle of the night," Artie argued. "Besides, I want to try to sail it before breakfast."
Fred suddenly thought of something. He darted out and ran around back of the barn. Sure enough, his suspicions were correct.