Tom was the first to reach the building, a one-story structure made of
dried mud from the canal. The shutters and the door had long since been
torn away by countless sandstorms.
The three boys entered the one-room building cautiously. The floor was
covered with sand, and sand was piled in heaping drifts in front of the
open windows and door.
"Nothing--not a thing," said Roger disgustedly. "This place must be at
least a hundred and fifty years old."
"Probably built by a miner," commented Tom.
"What do you mean 'nothing'?" said Astro. "Look!"
They followed Astro's pointing finger to the ceiling. Crisscrossed, from
wall to wall, were heavy wooden beams.
"Raft!" Tom cried.
"That's right, spaceman," said Astro, "a raft. There's enough wood up
there to float the _Polaris_. Come on!"
Astro hurried outside, with Tom and Roger following at his heels. They
quickly climbed to the roof of the old building and soon were ripping
the beams from the crumbling mud. Fortunately the beams had been joined
by notching the ends of the crosspieces. Astro explained that this was
necessary because of the premium on nails when the house was built.
Everything at that time had to be hauled from Earth, and no one wanted
to pay the price heavy nails and bolts demanded.
One by one, they removed the heavy beams, until they had eight of them
lined up alongside the edge of the canal.
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