“No, it isn’t coming to pieces,” he exclaimed, joyfully, as he saw that his work bore the strain of floating in the water.
Then he grasped the rope—which will be described presently—and towed his invention—it was an invention—rapidly up the river.
Arrived at the raft, he fastened this thing (we don’t know what else to call it) firmly on it. Then was shown the beauty and usefulness of the staple spoken of. Bob ran a strong cord through it and through some of the many staples and rings which were planted in the raft.
You perceive, gentle reader, that this boy was much better at scheming than at building.
Then he loosened the rope from the—let us call it cage—from the cage, and tied it fast to a ring in one end of the raft. This rope, or cord, was new and strong, and was actually one thousand feet in length! Bob did not believe in doing things by halves—but he had another object in view when he procured the long rope. Excepting a few yards at the end made fast to the raft, it was as yet coiled up neatly. About the middle a heavy iron ring, or sinker, was attached.
Bob arranged everything to his satisfaction, and had just set the raft afloat and made it stationery with an anchor, in the form of a sharp stick, when he espied Stephen and Carlo coming for their customary bath. He himself was screened by friendly shrubs and trees, but Stephen was in plain sight.
All that he had to do was to remain quiet and keep the raft to its anchor, and Stephen, he felt assured, would not see him.
In this belief the crafty plotter was right. Stephen hurriedly undressed a few rods below him, and plunged headlong into the river, Carlo beside him. Carlo, however, seemed uneasy, as though he suspected the presence of an enemy.
Bob examined the raft to see that it was securely anchored, and then stepped lightly ashore, an old muzzle and some pieces of rope in his hands. Unobserved, he stole along behind the shrubs, trees, and ridges, till he gained a hollow which completely hid him from Stephen, and then he stopped. Probably no boy in the neighborhood knew the lay of the land better than Mr. Bob.
Suddenly, he uttered a cry like a squirrel’s, which produced the effect he thought it would.