They examined and re-examined, but could none of them see any better plan; so they measured, and on their way home bought enough of the heaviest duck to make three bands, each three inches wide.
This transaction brought out a bit of Tug's loyalty. As Aleck took out his purse to pay for the canvas, Tug pushed his hand away and laid a dollar bill on the counter.
"You can just put up your cash," he cried. "This is my affair. If you fellows furnish the boat and sledge and all the rest, I'm going to pay, myself, for what new stuff we have to buy. It's little enough I can do, anyhow."
With this view there was no use of arguing, and Tug had his way that day and during all the rest of the preparation, spending the whole of his savings and the money received from the sale of his books and "contraptions."
While Tug sawed out the chairs, and screwed and spiked them firmly to the sledge that evening, the other two boys worked at the bands, and Katy sewed. They all sat in the kitchen, in order to be where Tug could work, and before they went to bed both tasks were nearly done.
The next day was Sunday.
On Monday the sledge was finished, and the boat was set upon it. Tacking tightly over it the canvas bands, two in front and one towards the stern, the whole affair proved almost as stiff and firm as though formed of one piece.