"Ten dollars."
"Ten dollars!" cried Charley in consternation. Then a smile came on his face. "Quit your kidding," he said. "What do they come at?"
"Ten dollars," replied the lumber dealer soberly.
The two boys stared at him incredulously.
"Impossible!" cried Lew. "What are they really worth?"
"Ten dollars," replied the man. His voice was sharp and a frown had gathered on his forehead. "Ten dollars, and cheap at that."
Charley turned to his companion with a look of dismay. "We can never build our boat with wood at such a price," he cried. "With five dollars to pay for oars, and two dollars for paint, and some more for nails and rowlocks, and lock and chain, the boat would cost eighteen or twenty dollars just for the materials. That's three times as much as we have got."
After an instant the look on Charley's face changed to one of intense indignation. He had a quick temper, and now he turned to the lumber dealer in anger.
"I guess the sugar profiteers are not the only ones who ought to be in the penitentiary," he said hotly. "You can keep your old boards. And I hope they rot for you."
Then he turned on his heel and started toward the gate, followed by Lew.