if you’ll sleep very much anyway, because there will be so much to see.”
Randy was silent. The thought of sleeping outdoors terrified him. Every night before he went to sleep at home he looked under his bed to make sure no one was hiding there. Not a person, not even his mother or father, knew that he did this, and Randy felt ashamed that he was afraid of the dark. Furthermore, it seemed to be something that he could not get over, something that made him feel scared even when he turned off the light in his own room. Now here was Jimmy telling him that they would be night explorers in a tree house. That would be ten times worse.
“What’s the matter, Randy?” asked Jimmy, noticing his cousin’s lack of enthusiasm. “Don’t you want to be a night explorer?”
“Sure. Only . . .” Randy stopped. He wasn’t going to tell Jimmy his secret. He would just make himself brave at night. “Let’s start to build the tree house right away,” he said, trying to sound jolly.
Mr. Moore patted him on the back. “That’s the spirit, Randy. You and Jimmy will be able to tell me things about the doings of the animals at night that I don’t know. Now you boys will need plenty of lumber for your house. There are some extra boards in my workshop. Youll also need a ladder and tools.”
The boys went with Mr. Moore to the barn. It was no longer a place to house cattle, for part of it had been converted into a workshop and the rest was used for storage. Mr. Moore helped the boys pick out saws, hammers, and nails. They thanked him, and then Jimmy hammered as hard as he could on an old board. The sound was pleasant to his ears. It made him feel that already he was a carpenter. Randy also made noises with his hammer.
“You’d better save your muscle, boys,” said Mr. Moore. “You’ll need it to build Hidden Lookout. By the way, where do you plan to put your house in the oak tree?”
“Close to the top,” Jimmy answered quickly. “We want it to be a real lookout, Dad.”
“I see,” said Mr. Moore, trying to hide a smile. Then he said seriously, “Don’t you think it would be better if you picked a lower spot? It would be rather hard to haul your lumber to the top. Come on. Let’s inspect the big oak tree together.”
The boys were happy to have Mr. Moore’s help. They walked around the tree several times, stretching their necks as they looked up to find a good location. Finally they decided that two low branches would be a good spot for the house.
“That’s an excellent place,” said Mr. Moore. “The branches are about the same height and should make a good support for Hidden Lookout. Also the tree is open on that side so that you will be able to see out of your house over to the brook and beyond.”
The boys beamed at Mr. Moore’s approval.
“Now we’ll get the lumber,” Jimmy said to Randy. “I’ll race you to Dad’s workshop.”
Then legs went flying as the boys ran across a stretch of grass. Jimmy reached the workshop first. Breathless, he climbed on top of a pile of old lumber stored in a corner. Randy was close at his heels. They were busy pulling out boards when Mr. Moore came in a few minutes later to tell them which ones were the best to use.
“Here are two heavy boards for your foundation,” he said. “You’ll also need stringers.”
The boys looked puzzled.
“Stringers? What are those, Dad?” asked Jimmy.
Mr. Moore explained that they were long pieces of timber used to support a floor. He picked out four boards suitable for this purpose.
The boys spotted nails in them.
“We’ll get the nails out,” they said together, eager to use their hammers. But they soon found that the nails were in crooked, and it was not easy to remove them from the boards. Perspiration stood out on their foreheads as they worked with their hammers. They kept at the job, though, until the boards were in ship-shape condition.
Then, feeling proud of themselves, they put the two heavy boards on a wheelbarrow and started for the oak tree.
The old wheelbarrow squeaked as Jimmy pushed it along. Randy kept up with his cousin, trying to keep the boards from falling off.
“Hey, don’t go so fast,” he shouted as one board began to seesaw.
“Sorry,” apologized Jimmy. “Ill take it easy.” He moved along at a turtle’s pace after that.
Finally the boys reached the oak tree. They unloaded the lumber and then went back to the workshop for the stringers, which they hauled to the tree.
Mr. Moore had gone into the house to make a telephone call, but he was soon back with the boys, suggesting to them what to do next.
“Well use a rope and pulley to haul up the lumber,” he said, “but we’ll tackle only one board at a time.”
Mr. Moore climbed up the ladder that he had braced against the tree trunk and fastened a pulley to a branch. The boys took turns pulling on the rope to raise the board. After that they watched Mr. Moore use his carpenter’s level to get the board straight with the ground before nailing it to the branches.
“Now may I please nail down the board?” asked Jimmy when his father had finished with the level.
Mr. Moore smiled. “You’d better practice first, son. It’s not easy to drive a nail in straight.”
“I can do it, Dad. I know I can.”
“All right. Let’s see.”
Jimmy missed the nail completely the first time. The second time his hammer went down on it with a bang, but the nail went in crooked.
“Shucks.” Jimmy’s face was red with embarrassment.
“Don’t be discouraged,” said Mr. Moore. He showed the boys how to hold the hammer correctly.
Jimmy and Randy practiced for a while, and soon they were helping Mr. Moore build the foundation. The two heavy boards were nailed down first, one to the trunk, the other to the two branches. Then came the four stringers, nailed crosswise over the heavy boards.
“Why do we have to have so many boards for the foundation?” asked Randy.
“That’s a good question,” answered Mr. Moore. “If you didn’t have a strong foundation, you might fall through the floor.”
“Gosh, I wouldn’t want to do that. I’d land on the hard ground.”
“You wouldn’t mind if you were a squirrel,” said Jimmy.
“But I’m not a squirrel,” protested Randy.
Jimmy quickly explained. “What I meant to say is that a gray squirrel doesn’t mind landing on the hard ground. Sometimes he falls fifty feet from a tree without getting hurt. You know why? His bushy tail acts like a parachute and breaks his fall.”
Mr. Moore was listening. “That’s true, son. Where did you learn that?”
“Miss Wilson at the library told me. She knows a lot about nature, and she picks out good books for me to read. I also read about a gray squirrel in one of Grandpa’s books. When he died, he left all his nature books to me, Randy.”
“I’d like to see them,” said Randy.
“I’ll show them to you, maybe tonight,” answered Jimmy. “Are we going to start now to build the floor for Hidden Lookout, Dad?”
Before Mr. Moore had a chance to answer the lunch bell rang, and they all climbed down the ladder in a hurry. The boys raced each other to the house.
“We’re starved, Mom,” said Jimmy as he rushed into the kitchen with Randy.
Mrs. Moore laughed. “That’s nothing new. Now go and wash your hands, fellows, before you sit down to the table.”
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