“Maybe you think I can’t build a boat,” retorted Sully, angrily.
“I’m not thinking in that direction,” returned Jack. “I am busy with my own affairs.”
“I’ll build a boat and show you,” growled Sully, and he went off with Dixon, his ever-present toady.
“Do you think he’ll build a boat?” questioned Harry, who was hammering away on one of the runners of the skeleton craft.
“No; he hasn’t brains enough,” put in Boxy. “I don’t believe he could drive a nail without splitting the board, if he tried his best.”
“It’s a case of sour grapes,” remarked Andy. “He is jealous because we are going off for a good time.”
“Well, he and his crowd can go off on their own account if they wish,” said Jack. “We are not hindering them.”
“Maybe he will take it into his head to go off, after we are gone,” said Andy. “He always was a great hand to imitate somebody else.”
It was fortunate that the boys had the old blacksmith-shop to work in, for that day it began to snow furiously, and before nightfall the ground was covered to the depth of six or eight inches. This, on top of the layer already packed down, made elegant sleighing.
“We must have a few more rides on my toboggan before we leave,” said Harry.