"What about doors and windows?"
"They will cut holes in the sides to-day, and put them in afterwards."
"What a ninny I am not to think of it! How hard the men work!"
"Yes; this house, too, has to be up to-night, and made ready for shingles as well."
"Oh, if the rain would only keep off!"
"Yes, that would be grand. In the meantime we are all doing our best."
Some men were splitting pine logs into slabs and hewing them down for roof planks, and already they were being laid on the rafters of Helen's house. Others were preparing shingles, chinking walls and cutting apertures. Doorways, jamways, chimneys, were all being made. Every one was busy.
By the next afternoon much had been accomplished. Each man's coat was off—work was unabated—no rain had fallen—but heavy clouds covered the sky—and Bateese's prediction seemed likely of fulfilment.
The shingling of Helen's house had been finished. A log fire was burning on the andirons to dry the dampness and take away the green, while men were doing their best in many ways to make it habitable.
"Can I have my boxes brought in now?" Helen asked of Harold. "There's the first drop of rain."