"If it sinks," said Ward, staring placidly out to sea, "you won't be able to put it back in Mrs. Meeker's fence."
Artie had not thought of this and neither had Fred. The latter now suggested that they ought to have an anchor.
"Or I tell you what we can do," he said. "Tie it to the piling. Then if it sinks, we can pull it in."
Artie protested that he wanted to sail the raft and Fred pointed out that if it did not sink, they could untie the rope and sail it as far as they liked.
"Well, all right; but where's a rope?" demanded Artie, feeling that he had done all that could be expected of him when he supplied the raft. Anything else, like ropes, could be furnished by those suggesting them.
"I saw one in the barn. I'll go get it," offered Ward, with unusual alacrity.
He was gone longer than it would have taken Fred or Artie, but they forgave him because they knew that if he hurried he was apt to lose his breath. He brought back a coil of fairly heavy rope, and this was tied around one end of the raft. They had to drag it almost a hundred feet to get it near the piling, and while Fred was in the act of fastening the other end of the rope to a brace between two of the logs, who should hail him but Joe Anderson and Albert Holmes.
"Joe's going home to-day," Albert volunteered. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," replied Artie, scowling, for once in his life averse to giving information.