THE weather turned extremely cold. Peter came back from his wood-sawing one evening and found Buddy astride a rocking-horse. The table was on top of the bunk to make room for the horse, and Booge, robed in one of the blankets, was playing the part of a badly scared Indian after whom Buddy was riding in violent chase. For a week Buddy had been well, but Booge managed to make Peter think he could still see spots on the boy. Booge had no desire to begin sawing wood again. It was much pleasanter in the shanty-boat with Buddy.
The rocking-horse was the oddest looking horse that ever cantered. Among the driftwood Booge had found the remains of an old rocking-chair, and on the rockers he had mounted four willow legs, with the bark still on them, and on these a section of log for the body. With his ax he had cut out a rough semblance of a head and neck from a pine board. The tail and mane were seine twine. But Buddy thought it was a great horse.
“Looks like you was a great sculpist, don't it?” said Peter jealously, as he stood watching Buddy riding recklessly over the prairies of the shanty-boat floor. “So that's why you been trying to make me think freckles was measles. It's a pity you didn't have a saw to work with.”
Booge looked at Peter suspiciously.
“I guess maybe by to-morrow I can find one for you,” continued Peter. “I saw a right good one up at the farm. And quite a lot of cord wood to practise on.”
“If you ain't just like a mind reader, Peter!” exclaimed Booge. “You must have knowed I been hankerin' to get back there at that pleasant occupation. But I hated to ask you, you 're so dumb jealous of everything. It's been so long since you've invited me to saw wood I was beginnin' to think you wanted the whole job for yourself.”
“You won't have to hanker to-morrow,” said Peter dryly.
“To-morrow? Now, ain't that too bad!” said Booge. “To-morrow's just the one day I can't saw wood. I been hired for the day.”
“Uncle Booge is going to make me a wagon,” said Buddy.
“Uncle Booge is going to take you up to the farm while he saws wood,” declared Peter. “Uncle Peter will make you a wagon later on, Buddy.”