“Well, I don’t know,” was the answer Mrs. Martin thought it safest to make.
Chop! Chop! Chop! went the sharp axes to the trunk of the tree. Soon the top part began to quiver and sway.
“Look out! She’s going to fall!” cried one of the lumbermen.
“We’d better run back, children!” said Mrs. Martin.
“Stay where you are, lady! You’ll be all right,” advised the head chopper.
Crash!
Down went the tree, and just as the lumberman had said, it fell in exactly the spot picked out for it, and nowhere near the place where Mrs. Martin stood with the Curlytops and Trouble.
“Hurray!” cried Teddy. “Good work!” He had often heard his father say that.
“Glad you liked it,” laughed one of the men.
Then they began trimming from the tree the branches, so the log could be taken to the mill, either being floated down the river or carted on the wagon or skids. The skids formed a sort of long, low sled with wooden runners, and in smooth places this could be pulled over the ground, dragging logs where they were needed.