Part 26 (1/2)
”Where-where did it go to?” cried Bob, dumfounded.
”It went-it went to China, I guess! It just slipped right through my hands, and kept on slipping!” Laurie knelt and dug at the hole with his fingers.
”Find it?” asked Bob. ”Try the shovel.”
”No, I can't feel it. Hand it here.” Laurie took the shovel and dug frantically. Then Bob dug. The result was that they enlarged and deepened the hole around the post, but the crowbar failed to materialize.
”I suppose,” said Laurie, finally, dropping the shovel and tilting back his cap, ”what happened was that I struck a sort of hole, and the bar went right down in. Maybe it was a rat-hole, Bob.”
”I guess so. Anyway, it's gone, and we'll have to get a new one.”
”Oh, I guess we'll find it when we get the post out. Let's try the old thing.”
They did, and, after a moment of indecision, it came out most obligingly. But there was still no crowbar to be seen. Laurie shook his head, mystified. ”That's the funniest thing I ever saw,” he declared.
”It surely is! Look here; maybe there's an old well there.”
”Then why didn't the post go down into it?”
”Because it's covered over with stones. The bar happened to slip into a-a crevice.”
Laurie nodded dubiously. ”That might be it,” he agreed. ”Or perhaps we've discovered a subterranean cavern!”
”Caverns always are subterranean, aren't they?”
”No; sometimes they're in the side of a hill.”
”Then they're caves.”
”A cave and a cavern are the same thing, you smart Aleck.”
”All right; but even if a cavern is in a hill, it's underground, and subterranean means under-”
”Help! You win, Bob! Come on and get hold of this log and let's get it out of here.” And, as they staggered with it across the garden to add it to the pile of posts and lumber already there, he continued: ”There's one thing certain, Bob, and that's that you won't get me to play tennis on your court. I'd be afraid of sinking into the ground some fine day!”
”Maybe you'd find the crowbar then,” said Bob. ”Heave!”
Laurie ”heaved,” patted the brown loam from his hands, and surveyed the pile. ”There's a lot of good stuff there,” he pondered. ”Some of it's sort of rotten, but there's enough to build something.”
”What do you want to build?”
”I don't know. We could build a sort of covered seat, like the one in Polly's yard, where folks could rest and look on. Take about six of these posts and some of the strips, and some boards for the seat-”
”Who'd dig the post-holes?” inquired Bob, coldly.
”Oh, we could get a couple of the others to help. Honest, Bob, it would be a lot of fun. Maybe we couldn't do it before spring, though.”
”I might leave the stuff here,” said Bob. ”Thomas could sort of pile it a little neater, you know. I love to carpenter. Sometime we'll draw a plan of it, Nod.”
”Right-o! How about those other posts? No use trying to do anything with 'em to-day, is there?”
”No; we'll have to have another crowbar.”
Laurie looked relieved. ”Well, let's go over and see whether the Widow's got any of those little cakes with the chocolate on top,” he suggested.