CHAPTER XVIII—BEFORE THE BATTLE
“The fellow who put these posts in,” grunted Bob, as he heaved and tugged, “must have had more time than brains!”
It was Thursday afternoon. A hard frost, which had frozen the ground a half-inch deep, had counseled him to finish the work of wrecking the arbor. But three posts remained, and at one of these Bob, after having dug around it, and pried at it with a bar until patience was exhausted, was tugging lustily. Laurie, wiping the sweat of honest toil from his brow, cast aside the bar and gave a hand.
“Come on,” he said hopefully. “One, two—three! Heave!”
“Heave!” muttered Bob.
But although the post, which had formed a corner of the arbor, gave from side to side, it refused to leave its nest. Panting, the boys drew off and observed it glumly.
“Guess we’ll have to dig some more,” said Bob.
“Wait a minute. Let me get a purchase on it with the bar.”
Laurie seized that implement again and drove it into the softened earth beside the post. As the first drive didn’t send it far enough, he pulled it out, and put all his strength into the next effort. This time he succeeded beyond all expectations. The bar slipped through his fingers and disappeared from sight!
“Well!” he gasped. “What do you know—”