“I’ll hev to go over to old Todderley’s after some more lumber to-morrow,” he said; “but ’pears like I can’t bear to leave it for a moment.”
“Isn’t there some danger that old Skinner might get wind of it and try to take it away from you?” suggested Bar.
The boat-builder blew out his flabby cheeks with a most mournful puff, and the saw he was using dropped from his hand.
“Then, what on ’arth is the use?” he exclaimed, as if all the beauty and glory had suddenly been knocked out of his life.
“I was thinking of that last night,” said Bar. “I’ll write out a bill of sale for the boat, when I get home. Call it mine till it’s sold. I’ll swap you the Mary for it, now, if you want.”
“Ain’t that there a leetle crooked?” slowly responded Puff.
“Yes, a little,” said Bar. “He means to steal the boat and we mean to hide it, that’s all. Send him to me if he troubles you and I’ll fix him. You needn’t be afraid, though. He won’t dream of coming.”
“I don’t mind doing that,” said Puff. “Reckon I kin go to work agin now. Hope you’ll have a right good day’s fishin’.”
So they did, so far as it went, but the boys had made up their minds to be on the green in time to take a look at the game of baseball as well as at the boys who came to play it.
On their return home they found that George Brayton had gone for an afternoon drive, and that Mrs. Wood was inclined to scold a little at their being so late for their dinner.