CHAPTER XI
A QUEER PLAY-HOUSE
Freddie Bobbsey thought for a minute. He and James had played numbers ofgames on other days when Freddie was allowed to come to his father'slumber yard. This time Freddie wanted to think of something new.
"Do you want me to tell you a story?" asked the watchman, for this wasone of the "games." James knew many fine stories, for he had used tolive in the woods, and had chopped down big trees, which were afterwardsawed into boards, such as were now piled about the lumber yard.
Freddie always liked to have the old watchman tell tales of what hadhappened in the woods, but this time the little chap said:
"Thank you, no, James. I want to do some thing else."
"All right, Freddie. Shall we play steamboat, and shall I be thewhistle?"
This was another fine game, in which Freddie got upon a pile of lumberand pretended it was a steamboat, while on the ground, down below, thewatchman made a noise like a whistle, and pretended to put wood on themake-believe fire to send the steamboat along.
"No, I don't want to play steamboat," Freddie said. "But this game has aboat in it. Did you ever build a ship to go sailing in?"
"No, Freddie. I never did. Do you want to play that game?"
"Yes but I want to make a _real_ boat. You see Tommy Todd's father islost at sea, and we are going to look for him. So I want to make a ship.There's lumber enough, I guess."
"I guess there is," said James, looking around at the many piles ofboards in Mr. Bobbsey's yards. "There's enough lumber, Freddie, but Idon't know about making a ship. How big would it have to be?"
"Well, big enough to hold me and Tommy and my sister Flossie and Dinah,our cook. Dinah's very fat you know, James, and we'll have to make theship specially big enough for her. Will you help me?"
"Why yes, I guess so, Freddie. That game will be as good as any to play,and I can do it sitting down, which is a comfort."
"Oh, but it's going to be a _real_ ship!" declared Freddie. "I've gotthe nails to put it together with, and string for the sails. I can use astone for a hammer," and he began to look about on the ground for one.
James scratched his head as he saw the bent and crooked nails Freddiehad piled up on a bundle of shingles near by. Then the watchman glancedat the tangle of string.
"As soon as I find a stone for a hammer we'll start," Freddie said. "Youcan get out the boards."
James wanted to be kind and amuse Freddie all he could, for he liked thelittle boy. But to pull boards out of the neat piles in Mr. Bobbsey'slumber yard was not allowed, unless the boards were to be put on a wagonto be carted off and sold.
"I'll tell you what we'd better do, Freddie," said the watchman at last.
"What?" Freddie asked.
"We'd better make a little ship first. That will be easy and we canmake it like a big one. Then we'll have something to go by--a sort ofpattern, such as your mother uses when she makes a dress for your littlesister."
"Oh yes!" cried Freddie. "That's what we'll do--make a little patternship first. It will be easier."
"Much easier," said James. "Now I'll find some small pieces of board foryou, and----"
But just then one of the workmen in the yard called to the watchman tocome and help him pile some lumber on a wagon.
"Wait just a minute, Freddie," said James. "I'll be back soon and helpyou."
"All right," answered Freddie. He sat down on a pile of shingles, andthought of the time when he and Tommy Todd should set off on their shipto find the shipwrecked Mr. Todd.
The watchman was gone longer than he expected. Freddie grew tired ofwaiting for him, and finally said to himself:
"I'm going to look for some wood myself. I guess I can find it." Helooked for some on the ground, but, though there were many chips, andbroken pieces, there was none of the kind Freddie thought would be goodfor a toy ship--the pattern after which the real one would be made.
"I guess I'll climb up on one of these piles of lumber," thoughtFreddie, "and see if there are any small pieces of board on top. It iseasy to climb up."
This was true enough, and once or twice before Freddie had made his wayto the top of a pile. Each stack of lumber was made in a sort ofslanting fashion, so that the back of it was almost like a pair ofsteps. Lumber is piled this way to let the rain run off better.
Freddie went up the back part of a pile, some distance away from thebundles of shingles where he had been talking to James.
"This is an easy place to climb," Freddie said to himself. "I hope Ishall find what I want on top."
Step by step he went up the pile of lumber, until he was at the top.But, to his disappointment, he found there nothing which he could bringJames to use in making a small ship. The boards were all too long andwide.
"I might bring one down, and have James cut it smaller with his knife,"said Freddie, speaking aloud. "That's what I'll do."
He lifted up one of the boards. As he did so the little boy noticed thatthe pile of lumber was swaying a little from side to side as he movedabout.
"I guess I'd better get down off here," Freddie said. "This is toojiggily." He had been told to keep off "jiggily" lumber piles, as theywere not safe.
Freddie dragged to the edge the board he had picked out for the watchmanto make smaller. The little boy was just going to slide it over the edgeof the pile to the ground, when, all at once Freddie felt himselffalling.
"Oh dear!" he cried. "Something is going to happen!"
And something did happen. The lumber pile with Freddie on top, wasfalling over. Freddie did not know what to do; whether or not to jump.He looked down, but neither James nor any other man was in sight; andthe office, where Freddie's father was working, was far on the otherside of the yard.
"Oh dear!" cried Freddie again.
And then, with a crash, the top of the lumber pile slid over, carryingFreddie with it. A cloud of dust arose and the little Bobbsey chap couldsee nothing for a few seconds. And when he did open his eyes, afterfeeling himself come down with a hard bump, he found himself in a queerlittle house.
It really was a sort of house in which Freddie found himself--a littleplay-house, almost. The lumber had fallen about him in such a way thatFreddie had not been hurt or squeezed by it in the least. The boards hadpiled up over his head, in a peak, like the peaked roof of a real house.Other boards were on the sides and in front, and there Freddie was, in aqueer play-house that had made itself when the lumber slid over.
"Well!" thought Freddie, "this is funny! But I wonder how I can getout."
It was not dark in the queer play-house, for light came in between thecracks among the boards and planks. But though the cracks and openingswere large enough to let in the light, they were not large enough to letFreddie get out.
The little boy pushed here and there, but the lumber was too heavy forhim to move. Then he happened to think that if he did move one board itmight loosen others which would fall down on his head.
"I'm in a little house," thought Freddie, "and I guess I'd better callmy father to come and get me out. He'll know how to lift off the boards.I'll call daddy or James."
Freddie began to call. But as several lumber wagons were rattling up anddown the yard just then, the little boy's voice was not heard. James,having finished helping the man load his wagon, came back to where hehad left Freddie.
"Well, shall we start to make a little ship now?" asked the watchman.But no Freddie was in sight near the shingle pile.
"Humph! He got tired of waiting, I guess," thought James, "and went backto his father's office. Well, if he comes back I'll help him. He's aqueer little chap, wanting to build a ship. A queer little chap."
And James never thought of going to look for Freddie, for the lumberpile, which had fallen and made itself into a sort of play-house wassome distance away from the bundle of shingles. So James sat there inthe sun, waiting, and, far off, Freddie was calling for help. For hewanted to get out, very much.