The pony was only annoyed, not frightened.  He seemed to find Jack’s efforts to keep from falling off quite entertaining.  Suddenly a new idea occurred to him.  What a wonder that he did not think of it before!  He veered toward the side of the way, stopped abruptly, and, bending his head, sent Jack flying over it into the ditch.  A grand success!  With a satisfied air Winkie followed up his victory, approached his prostrate antagonist, regarded him for a moment, and—­for he wore no check-line—­putting down that clever nose of his, by a playful push with it he rolled the boy fairly over, and then set off in a steady trot along the highway.

II.

Winkie had just reached the gate of Jack’s home, when our young friends caught up with him.  Leo was now allowed to assume control, and, by dint of much coaxing and encouragement, at length succeeded in leading him to Mr. Gordon’s barn.  The wagon was here unloaded, after which Leo leaped into it, crying, “Come on, old fellow; that’s all!” And Winkie, shaking his mane, as if felicitating himself that the disagreeable task was over, started off with much satisfaction.

“I’ll be back again this afternoon,” his little master shouted to the others as he drove away; “but—­I think I’ll walk!”

For the next fortnight the lads spent the greater part of the time in the Gordon barn.  Such a hammering and sawing as went on there!  At first the proceedings were enveloped in an air of mystery.  Jack’s father suspected that they were preparing for an amateur circus performance.  His mother wondered at the interest manifested in the repair of the chicken-coops.  Some experiment was in progress, she was sure; but what?  At last the secret came out.  They were building a boat!

Jack and Rob did it all.  “The little boys”—­as they were accustomed to call Jim and Leo, much to the chagrin of the latter—­were not permitted to have anything to say.  They were to keep their eyes open and learn by observation.  This they did, though not with exactly the result that had been intended.  Before long they understood very well what not to do in building a boat.  But we are all liable to make mistakes; and are we not continually teaching others, at least by our experience?

In season and out of season the work went on.  Little Barbara Stuart was constantly coming over to ask:  “Is Rob here?  Mother wants him; he hasn’t half finished what he had to do at home.”  Leo kept getting into trouble because he would stop at his cousin’s, instead of going directly home from school as his father wished him to do.  Jim, who had a decided, but, alas! entirely uncultivated, taste for drawing, spoiled his new writing-book with extraordinary sketches meant to represent every kind of boat, from a punt or dory to an ocean steamer; and in consequence was not on good terms with the schoolmaster, who did not appreciate such evidences of genius.