“I know that,” said John, “but I thought that perhaps if you had a chance to get one and didn’t do it you might give yourself bad luck.”
“You’re as bad as Fred,” exclaimed George disgustedly. “Why can’t you all be cheerful?”
“Why can’t you all go to work is what I’d like to know?” exclaimed Grant. “It seems to me that that is more important than luck.”
“You’re right, Grant,” said George readily. “There’s no such thing as luck.”
“There’s such a thing as work, though,” said Grant grimly. “Let’s all do some of it.”
They fell to work with a will and dug busily and steadily for a long time. A hole about four feet square was started and the boys were armed with almost everything one could think of in place of real tools. Sticks, flat pieces of rock, and hands almost more than anything else were employed.
“It’s a good thing for us we are digging in sand and not in clay,” remarked Fred after some time had elapsed.
“I should say it is!” agreed John. “As it is, we aren’t making a great deal of headway it seems to me.”
“Oh, yes, we are,” exclaimed Grant. “The hole is at least a couple of feet deep already.”
“I wish we could all get in there at once,” said George. “We could work much faster then.”