The High School Boys' Canoe Club Part 11

When Hiram Driggs reached his boatyard at eight o'clock he found d.i.c.k & Co. waiting for him.

"Well, well, well, boys!" Mr. Driggs called cheerily. "So you didn't back out."

"Did you think we would, sir?" d.i.c.k inquired.

"No; I knew you boys wouldn't back out. And I don't believe you threw away any bark on the way home, just to lighten your loads."

Hiram went about the yard starting the day's work for his men, then came back to the boys.

"Now, just bring the bark over to the platform and we'll look it over and sort it," suggested the boat builder.

d.i.c.k & Co. carried their loads over to the platform, where they cut the las.h.i.+ngs.

"We'll make three heaps of the stuff," Driggs proposed. "One heap will be the worthless stuff that has to be thrown away.

Another heap will be for the pieces that are good but small; they'll do for patches. The third heap will be the whole, sound strips.

Mebbe I'd better do all the sorting myself."

So the boys stood by, watching Driggs as he sorted the bundles of bark with the speed of a man who knows just what he wants.

A quant.i.ty of the bark went on to the "worthless" heap, yet there was a goodly amount in each of the other piles by the time that the boat builder was through sorting it.

"You've done first rate, boys," he announced at last. "Is there much more of that bark on Katson's Hill?"

"We ought to be able to bring in fifty times as much bark as we've brought already," d.i.c.k answered.

"I wish you would," Driggs retorted.

"And give up the whole of our summer vacation?" Danny Grin asked anxiously.

"Well, there is that side to it, after all," Driggs admitted quickly.

"It must be a tough job on your backs, too. But, boys, I wouldn't mind having a lot of this stuff, for birch bark canoes are coming into favor again. The only trouble is that birch bark is hard to get, these days, and costs a lot to boot. So it makes birchbark canoes come pretty high. At the same time, there are plenty of wealthy folks who would pay me well for a birch-bark canoe.

Now, I know that you boys, owning a canoe that will soon be in the water, won't be anxious to give up your whole summer to doing jobs for me. But couldn't you bring in a lot more bark if you had a team of horses and a good-sized wagon?"

"Of course we could," d.i.c.k nodded. "But we haven't any horses or a wagon."

"I was thinking," Driggs went on slowly. "I can spare my gray team and the big green wagon. Any of you boys know how to drive?"

"All of us do," d.i.c.k answered, "though I guess Tom could handle a team better than any of the rest of us."

"Then suppose you take my team out at six o'clock to-morrow morning?"

Driggs suggested. "I'll have to charge you four dollars a day for it, but I'll take it in bark as payment. With the wagon you'll be able to bring in a lot more bark than you could without a wagon."

"It's a fine idea, sir," glowed d.i.c.k, "and you're mighty kind to us."

"Not especially kind," smiled the boat builder. "I can use a lot of this bark in my business, and I'm glad to get it on as reasonable a basis as you boys can bring it to me. You see, it's lucky that Katson's Hill is wild and distant land. If we had a land owner to deal with he'd make us pay high for the privilege of stripping the bark."

"But why couldn't you send your own workmen out to cut the bark?"

d.i.c.k asked. "They've as much right on Katson's Hill as we have."

"Oh, yes; I could do that," Driggs a.s.sented. "And I could make a little more money that way, mebbe. But would it be square business, after you young men have trusted me with your business secret as to where bark can be had for nothing?"

That was a ruggedly honest way of putting it that impressed d.i.c.k & Co.

"I'll tell you what you---might do, Mr. Driggs," hinted Tom Reade.

"You might lend us a grindstone, if you have one to spare. Then we can sharpen our knives right on the spot and cut bark faster."

"You can have the grindstone," Driggs a.s.sented. "And I'll do better than that. I can spare half a dozen knives from the shop that are better than anything you carry in your pockets. Oh, we'll rush this business along fast."

Six utterly happy high school boys reported at Hiram Driggs' stable at six o'clock the next morning. They harnessed the horses, put the grindstone in the wagon and all climbed aboard. Two seats held them all, and there was room for a load of bark, besides, several times as large as d.i.c.k & Co. could carry on their backs.

Work went lightly that day! The shop knives cut far better than pocket knives could do, and the stone was at hand for sharpening.

Six laughing and not very tired boys piled aboard the wagon that afternoon, with what looked like a "mountain" of prime birch bark roped on.

For seven more working days d.i.c.k & Co. toiled faithfully, at the end of which time they discovered that they had about "cleaned"

Katson's Hill of all the really desirable bark.

"Your canoe will be dry enough to launch in the morning," said Driggs, as he received the last load at his stable. "Come down any time after eight o'clock and we'll put it in the water."

Were d.i.c.k & Co. on hand the next morning?

Dan Dalzell was the last of the six boys to reach post outside the locked gate of the yard, and he was there no later than twenty-one minutes past seven.

CHAPTER VI

MEETING THE FATE OF GREENHORNS

At five minutes before eight Hiram Driggs arrived, keys in hand.

"I see you're on time," he smiled, unlocking the gate and throwing it open. "Now come in and we'll run your canoe out on the river float."

Even in the dim light of the boathouse d.i.c.k & Co. could see the sides of the canoe glisten with their coating of pitch and oil that lay outside the bark. The war canoe looked like a bran-new craft!

"Do you like her?" queried Driggs, with a smile of pride in the work of his yard.

"Like her?" echoed d.i.c.k, a choking feeling in his throat. "Mr.

Driggs, we can't talk---yet!"

"Get hold," ordered the boat builder. "Carry her gently."

Gently? d.i.c.k & Co. lifted their beloved treasure as though the canoe carried a cargo of eggs.

Out into the morning sun they carried her, letting her down with the stern right at the water's edge.

"O-o-o-oh!" It would be hard to say which one of d.i.c.k & Co. started that murmur of intense admiration.