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 Dick & 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 Dick & 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 Dick & 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 Dick, a choking feeling in his throat.  “Mr. Driggs, we can’t talk—–­yet!”

“Get hold,” ordered the boat builder.  “Carry her gently.”

Gently?  Dick & 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 Dick & Co. started that murmur of intense admiration.

“Now, if you can take your eyes off that canoe long enough,” proposed Driggs, after all hands, the builder included, had feasted their eyes for a few minutes upon the canoe, “come into the office and we’ll attend to a little business.”

Not quite comprehending, the high school boys followed Driggs, who seated himself at his desk, picking up a sheet of paper.

“Prescott, I take it you’re the business manager of this crowd,” the boat builder went on.  “Now, look over these figures with me, and see if everything is straight.  Here are the different loads of bark you’ve brought in.  I figure them up at $122.60.  See if you make it the same?”

“Of course I do,” nodded Dick, not even looking at the figures.

“Careless of you, not to watch another man’s figuring,” remarked Hiram Driggs.  “Now, then, the bark you’ve brought in comes to just what I’ve stated.  Against that is a charge for the team and wagon, eight days at four dollars a day—–­thirty-two dollars.  Twenty dollars for fixing your canoe.  Total charges, fifty-two dollars.  Balance due you for bark, seventy dollars and sixty cents.  That’s straight, isn’t it?”