.dt The Speedwell Boys and Their Ice Racer, by Roy Rockwood - A Project Gutenberg eBook
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UNDER THE PRESSURE OF BOTH WIND AND CLAW-WHEEL,
SHE HIT ONLY THE HIGH PLACES.
Speedwell Boys and Their Ice Racer.\ \ \ \ Page 199
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The Speedwell Boys
and Their Ice Racer
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Or
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Lost in the Great Blizzard
.sp 2
BY
.sp
ROY ROCKWOOD
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AUTHOR OF “THE SPEEDWELL BOYS ON MOTORCYCLES,” “THE
DAVE DASHAWAY SERIES,” “THE GREAT
MARVEL SERIES,” ETC.
.sp 2
ILLUSTRATED
.sp 2
NEW YORK
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
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BOOKS FOR BOYS
BY ROY ROCKWOOD
.sp 2
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS SERIES
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12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.
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THE SPEEDWELL BOYS ON MOTORCYCLES
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS AND THEIR RACING AUTO
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS AND THEIR POWER LAUNCH
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS IN A SUBMARINE
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS AND THEIR ICE RACER
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DAVE DASHAWAY SERIES
12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.
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DAVE DASHAWAY THE YOUNG AVIATOR
DAVE DASHAWAY AND HIS HYDRO-PLANE
DAVE DASHAWAY AROUND THE WORLD
DAVE DASHAWAY, AIR CHAMPION
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THE GREAT MARVEL SERIES
12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.
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THROUGH THE AIR TO THE NORTH POLE
UNDER THE OCEAN TO THE SOUTH POLE
FIVE THOUSAND MILES UNDERGROUND
THROUGH SPACE TO MARS
LOST ON THE MOON
ON A TORN-AWAY WORLD
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CUPPLES & LEON. CO., PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
.hr 60%
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Copyright, 1915, by
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
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.hr 30%
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THE SPEEDWELL BOYS AND THEIR ICE RACER
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CONTENTS
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CHAPTER || PAGE
I. |#ON THE ROAD AND ON THE ICE:chapI#|1
II. |#A BIG IDEA:chapII#|11
III. |#MORE THAN ONE MYSTERY:chapIII#|21
IV. |#THE “FLY-UP-THE-CREEK”:chapIV#|30
V. |#WINGED STEEL:chapV#|38
VI. |#GETTING INTO TRIM:chapVI#|46
VII. |#OUT ON THE ROAD:chapVII#|55
VIII. |#THE PLANS:chapVIII#|64
IX. |#THE BOY WHO COULDN’T TALK:chapIX#|70
X. |#COASTING:chapX#|79
XI. |#A HAIR’S BREADTH FROM DEATH:chapXI#|88
XII. |#THE “FOLLOW ME”:chapXII#|96
XIII. |#THE STRANGER:chapXIII#|101
XIV. |#GATHERING TROUBLE:chapXIV#|109
XV. |#ON ISLAND NUMBER ONE:chapXV#|117
XVI. |#THE UNEXPECTED:chapXVI#|127
XVII. |#IN THE DEN:chapXVII#|137
XVIII. |#AN EVENING DRIVE:chapXVIII#|144
XIX. |#LOST IN THE BLIZZARD:chapXIX#|152
XX. |#“NEVER SAY DIE!”:chapXX#|161
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XXI. |#THE CRY FOR HELP:chapXXI#|169
XXII. |#THE BATTLE IN THE SNOW:chapXXII#|174
XXIII. |#DUMMY “GETS IN GOOD”:chapXXIII#|181
XXIV. |#“IT’S A RINGER!”:chapXXIV#|190
XXV. |#BEATING THE “STREAK O’ LIGHT”:chapXXV#|197
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THE SPEEDWELL BOYS | AND THEIR ICE RACER
.pm chapnopb I "ON THE ROAD AND ON THE ICE"
“Crickey! this is some snow, Dan. Never
saw it come so fast in my life,” declared Billy
Speedwell earnestly, as his brother rolled the
heavy cans of milk out of the cooling room at
Fifield’s.
Their new motor-truck, in which the boys
picked up the milk from the various dairies under
contract to Mr. Speedwell, stood near. One at
a time the brothers lifted the heavy cans and
tossed them into the wagon.
“You’ll likely see a lot more snow before this
winter’s over, Billy,” grunted the older lad, as the
last can was placed.
“If it gets deep in the roads we may have to
go back to using Bob and Betty and the old delivery
wagons.”
“Not much!” exclaimed Dan, with confidence.
“We’ve got seventy horses in this old engine; that
ought to push her through the drifts.”
.bn 007.png
.pn +1
“We’ll have to put the chains on her tires before
we start out to-morrow morning—unless I
miss my guess. This is going to be some snow,”
remarked Billy.
“According to the almanac,” his brother responded,
“we’re going to have many big storms
this winter and lots of ice. Why! there’s a regular
blizzard due before Christmas.”
“Well, I like the winter,” declared Billy. “But
if the Colasha stays frozen over we’ll not use the
Red Arrow again till spring.”
“No; I suppose not.”
“And with the roads deep in snow we won’t
do much fast riding on either our Flying Feathers,
or our racing-auto.”
“Oh! there’ll be good weather for motor-car
races yet.”
“That’s so,” cried Billy. “I guess we can get
a bit of fun out of the old car, eh?”
“We’ll try,” agreed Dan, who was just as much
of a motor enthusiast as his younger brother.
Billy had hopped in and taken the wheel. The
motor was singing beneath them and in a moment
the electric truck lurched forward and they slid
out of the Fifield yard.
When they turned into the road, heading for
home, the wind and snow struck them with all
their force.
“Some storm!” Billy muttered, with set teeth,
and trying to peer ahead.
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The lamps did little good in such a smother.
The flakes whipped into his face and clung to
his goggles. Again and again he wiped away the
accumulated moisture with his mittened hand—thereby
blurring his sight for a moment entirely.
It was just after one of these attempts to clear
his vision that the accident happened. The truck
was steaming along at a good clip, for the Speedwells
were anxious to get home to shelter and a
warm supper.
Dan shouted and seized his brother’s shoulder.
The latter felt the jar as the mudguard struck
the dim figure that he had only seen when the
truck was right upon it.
Down went the foot passenger, who had been
plowing against the storm, too, deaf and blind to
the motor-truck. Billy shouted, but was not too
excited to stop the motor and brake the car.
He leaped into the gathering snow on one side,
while Dan left the truck on the other. Fortunately
the wayfarer had been flung aside; the
wheels had not passed over him.
“He must be badly hurt, Dan!” gasped Billy,
in great distress, on his knees beside the fallen
figure.
“Does he move?”
“I—I can’t tell. Try it, Dannie,” choked the
younger Speedwell. “I—I’m afraid to do so.”
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.pn +1
Dan had the wrist of the unfortunate in his
own bare fingers. “His pulse is all right,” he
said.
Just then the unknown stirred and muttered.
What he said neither of the Speedwells could
understand; but they were both delighted. Certainly
the victim of the accident was far from
dead!
“Who are you? Are you hurt?” asked Dan.
The other made a strange sound—it was as
though he said several words, but they were unlike
any speech the boys had ever heard before.
“He can’t be intoxicated; can he?” gasped
Billy.
“Why, he’s only a boy!” declared Dan, dragging
the unknown into a sitting posture in the
snow.
“There’s a cut along his cheek. See! it’s
bleeding.”
Billy brought out his handkerchief and wiped
the blood away. The mysterious youth—he
wasn’t as old as Dan—tried to speak again. The
sounds that issued from his lips were so strange
that the younger Speedwell was startled.
“I never heard the like, Dan!” he gasped.
“Is he some kind of a foreigner?”
“It doesn’t sound human,” drawled Dan.
“He must be a stranger from Mars.”
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But it was not altogether a joke, although the
youth now staggered to his feet with the aid of
the brothers, one on either side. He had been
much shaken, it was evident. His cheek still bled,
and he seemed strangely weak.
“Come along home with us, old man,” Dan
said, patting him on the shoulder. “We’ll see
what’s the matter with you there.”
The stranger seemed to understand. Although
he could not speak intelligibly, it was plain that
he understood what the Speedwells said to him.
And he did not lack intelligence—Dan and Billy
were sure of that. His eyes were bright and he
wasn’t at all dazed. The blow had knocked him
out for only a minute.
They helped him into the seat and again Billy
started the truck. The snow whirled down upon
them faster and faster; but this time there was
no stop made until they turned in at the Speedwell
gate and the outline of the big barn and
cow stables loomed before them.
Dan hurried the strange youth into the kitchen,
where the odorous steam of supper attacked them
cheerfully as soon as the outer door was opened.
“What is the matter?” cried Mrs. Speedwell,
who was a motherly person, as soon as she saw
her older son and the strange boy. “Is he hurt?
Who is he, Daniel?”
“I don’t believe he’s badly hurt, Mother,”
explained Dan. “But he doesn’t seem able to
tell——”
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Again the unknown mumbled something. His
eyes roved eagerly toward the table, already laid
with a bountiful repast.
“I know he’s hungry,” exclaimed Mrs. Speedwell.
“Let him wash his face and hands, Daniel,
and sit down at once.”
The strange boy could do that. Carrie brought
a bottle of antiseptic and little ’Dolph stood by
and watched the stranger in childish curiosity. In
a few moments Billy and their father came in,
and then all sat down to the table.
The visitor was undeniably hungry. Adolph
could scarcely eat his own supper he was so
greatly interested in seeing the unknown youth
“mow away” the heaping plateful good-natured
Mr. Speedwell put before him.
“Why!” declared Mrs. Speedwell, “that
young fellow was pretty near starved. And he’s
only a boy, too! What can his folks be thinking
of——?”
The visitor looked at her, smiled, and nodded.
He tried to say something, too, but it was such
a jumble of sounds that they all looked amazed,
and even the boys’ father shook his head.
“That certainly beats me!” he exclaimed.
“What do you think he means, Mother?”
“I am sure I do not know. But we must find
out about him. He ought not to be wandering
around alone.”
.bn 012.png
.pn +1
“On a night like this, too!” from Dan.
“Oh, we’ll put him up,” said Billy, quickly.
“Won’t we, Mom?”
“Surely, my son,” agreed his mother.
“Maybe he is some kind of a foreigner,” said
Carrie, the boys’ sister.
“Sounds more like hog-Latin,” chuckled Billy,
to his brother.
“Sh! he can understand English well enough,
even if he doesn’t speak it plainly,” said the older
boy.
“Guess you are right there,” agreed Billy.
The entire family was deeply interested in the
youth. He had been hungry indeed; and when
supper was finished he appeared sleepy, too.
“No knowing how far he had tramped in the
snow and storm before you boys ran across him,”
Mr. Speedwell observed.
“We didn’t exactly run across him,” Billy said,
with a chuckle. “But we come pretty near it,
Dad. Too near for comfort.”
At any rate, Mrs. Speedwell and Carrie prepared
a room for the stranger. He had a suit of
Dan’s pajamas to sleep in, and little ’Dolph had
become so friendly with him that he insisted on
the visitor’s taking to bed with him one of
Adolph’s newest and most precious toys—an air-gun.
.bn 013.png
.pn +1
The visitor retired after saying something that
must have been a grateful response to Mrs.
Speedwell’s kindliness.
“By gracious!” exclaimed Mr. Speedwell,
slapping his knee, “that surely sounds like English—only
he mumbles it so. Sounds just as
though he were tongue-tied.”
“He surely isn’t dumb,” agreed Dan.
“Not at all,” Billy added. “But I never
heard anybody as tongue-tied as all that.”
The Speedwells were not late to bed—especially
on such a night as this. The wind howled
and the snow continued until midnight; but when
the alarm clock awoke Billy and Dan in their
room at two o’clock, the storm had ceased and
a faint strip of moon was struggling amidst the
breaking clouds.
The snow was not too deep for the auto-truck,
although the brothers could not get over their
long route as quickly as usual. School was in
session and Dan and Billy put in full time every
school day, in spite of the milk delivery.
They were spinning out the river road towards
Colonel Sudds’s place, beyond the Darringford
Machine Shops, about half past seven, with only
a few more customers to deliver to, when Billy
caught sight of something on the river that interested
him immensely.
“Look at that flyer, Dan!” he cried. “Iceboat,
sure as you are an inch high!”
.bn 014.png
.pn +1
“I’m several feet more than an inch tall,
Billy,” chuckled his brother, “so that must be
an iceboat and no hallucination.”
“Don’t pull any of the ‘high brow stuff,’ as
Biff Hardy calls it,” returned slangy Billy Speedwell.
“And tell me, pray, who owns an iceboat
around Riverdale?”
“I didn’t even suppose the ice was thick enough
to bear a boat,” returned Dan, who was quite as
surprised at the appearance of the swooping craft
as his brother.
The river bank fell abruptly from the edge of
the road. Dan had brought the truck to a halt,
for both boys were immensely interested.
Anything that flew like that craft on the ice
below, was bound to hold the attention of the
brothers. They were well named, their chums
at the Riverdale Academy declared. Billy Speedwell
had never yet traveled fast enough to suit
him, and Dan was just as much of a “speed
maniac.”
However, Dan’s natural caution usually kept
the brothers from reckless racing of any kind;
but they had won prizes and made records with
their motorcycles, racing car, and motorboat.
Now they stared hard at the craft flying
down the river toward the buildings belonging to
the Colasha Boat Club. The ice was firm in
patches, but from this height the Speedwells could
see that there were open strips of water, yards
in width.
.bn 015.png
.pn +1
The tides did not affect the river much so far
from its mouth; yet there was some brine in it
and despite the severe cold of the last few days,
the ice was not entirely safe.
“Two fellows in her,” announced Billy.
“I see ’em.”
“And just as reckless as they can be. See
there! Don’t they see that channel ahead? My
goodness, Dan! It’s fifty feet wide if it is a
foot!”
“You’re right, Billy; they’re going to have a
spill!”
“Worse than that,” cried the younger brother,
and he hopped out of his seat. “Come on, Dan!
there’s going to be something doing down there in
another minute. We’re going to be needed——”
He halted in his speech, for at that very moment
the skimming iceboat shot over the edge of
the firm ice, its runners cut through the shell-like
crystal beyond, and the heavy body of the boat
splashed into the open water.
Its momentum carried it far; but only the front
runner hit the ice on the other side of the open
channel. The runner slipped under the firm ice,
and the careening boat stopped. With a crash
heard plainly up on the highroad, the mast went
by the board, and the craft and its passengers
disappeared under the falling canvas.
.bn 016.png
.pn +1
.pm chap II "A BIG IDEA"
Dan and Billy Speedwell, now seventeen and
sixteen years of age respectively, were, as has
been observed, famous in the county as speed
experts. In “The Speedwell Boys on Motorcycles”
are related several of their first speed
trials at the Compton Motordrome and on the
road, and in the second volume of the series,
“The Speedwell Boys and Their Racing Auto,”
is told the winning of a thousand-mile endurance
test.
The brothers later obtain possession of a
motorboat and adventures connected with the
great regatta of the Colasha Boat Club are narrated
in “The Speedwell Boys and Their Power
Launch,” and in the fourth volume, entitled “The
Speedwell Boys in a Submarine,” the brothers
are two of an adventurous party that find a submerged
wreck and the treasure aboard it.
The boys’ father had been merely a small dairyman
and farmer, and the boys had to work hard
between school sessions to help him. By certain
.bn 017.png
.pn +1
fortuitous circumstances they had been enabled to
obtain motorcycles, a racing auto, and a power
launch; but the disposal of the recovered treasure
had made the Speedwell family quite independent.
Something like twenty thousand dollars had
been wisely invested for Dan and Billy, and in
addition they were able to help their father increase
his business and give the family many luxuries
which had before been beyond their reach.
As we have seen, however, the Speedwells lived
plainly and were busy and industrious folk.
The brothers went to school faithfully and helped
as they had for several years in the delivery of
the milk to their father’s customers in and about
Riverdale.
The interest of the two boys in the career of
the strange iceboat had brought them to a halt
on the river road. Dan and Billy were both descending
the steep bank at breakneck speed before
the fall of the mast spelled utter ruin to the ice
craft.
“They’ll be drowned, Dan!” gasped Billy,
hurrying on the slippery path.
“They’ll be mighty wet—that’s sure,” returned
the older boy. “Hold on, Billy! Let’s
take some of these rails. We’ll need ’em.”
.bn 018.png
.pn +1
It was always Dan who thought the more
clearly. Billy was as brave as a young lion; but
he lacked his brother’s judgment and caution.
He would have gone empty-handed to the rescue
of the victims of the wreck; but Dan saw ahead.
The boys immediately tore down a couple of
lengths of rail fence which here marked the
boundary of some old pasture. With the rails
on their shoulders they hurried on.
Just then a faint cry for help came from the
half-submerged iceboat. Billy returned a shout
of encouragement as he and Dan hurried to get
around the open stretch of water.
When the boys leaped down upon the ice they
chose a firm spot for their attempt. They were
able to run right out toward the middle of the
river (which was here at least two miles wide)
without venturing upon any thin ice. Their principal
peril was from holes hidden by the heaped-up
snow of the night before.
The weight of this snow had broken down
great patches of ice, leaving open places like this
into which the iceboatmen had fallen. And there
had been a very high tide not four hours before,
which had raised the level of the Colasha River
even as far up-stream as this point.
Naturally the ice—not yet very thick—had
given way in many places. The two on the
wrecked boat had been very reckless indeed.
.bn 019.png
.pn +1
This was no time to tell them so, however.
Dan and Billy went to work in the most approved
fashion to reach the half-frozen castaways clinging
to the outrigger of the ice craft.
“Keep up your pluck! We’re coming!” yelled
Billy.
“So—so’s—Christmas!” stammered one of
the castaways.
“Crickey!” gasped Billy. “That’s Monroe
Stevens—sure’s you live, Dan!”
The Speedwells had cast the fence rails on the
ice in a criss-cross fashion and now Dan was
creeping out upon the frail platform thus made,
to the very thin ice. He said:
“If he was going to be hanged the next minute,
Monroe would joke. Hi, there! Save your
breath to cool your porridge, Monroe! Who’s
with you?”
“B-b-barry Spink,” chattered young Stevens.
“Don’t y-y-you know—know Barrington Spink,
Dan? Lem-lem-lemme present you.”
This introduction seemed a little unnecessary,
for the next moment Dan Speedwell seized Barrington
Spink by the wrist and fairly “yanked”
him out of the water. Young Spink was all but
helpless from cold and exhaustion.
As Dan backed away from the hole, dragging
Spink with him, Billy swarmed over them both
and seized upon Monroe Stevens.
“Hold tight, old man,” he cried. “We’ll get
you out.”
.bn 020.png
.pn +1
“All—all right,” chattered Stevens. “But
d-d-don’t be too-o-o long about it, Billy. They
certainly for—for—forgot to heat th—this
bawth!”
Billy clutched him tightly by the collar and in
a few moments he felt Dan tugging at his own
heels. Barry Spink was lying, panting, on the
ice—but fast freezing to it, for the thermometer
was still far down the scale.
“Come on! come on!” gasped Billy, when the
four of them were on their feet. “Let’s get
where there’s a fire.”
“Y—y—you bet!” agreed Monroe Stevens.
“I—I never was so shivery in—in all—all my
life!”
Spink could hardly speak. But he moaned
occasionally something about the lost iceboat,
which he called the White Albatross.
“Goodness knows!” chattered Stevens, “we
deserved to lose the silly thing. I knew better
than to try her out to-day—and I—I told you so,
Barry.”
“I didn’t know there was an iceboat on the
river,” said Dan, as they all climbed the steep hill
to the road and the waiting motor car.
“It—it was the only one on the Colasha,”
mumbled Spink.
.bn 021.png
.pn +1
“We’ve been building it on the q. t., Dannie,”
exclaimed Stevens, grinning. “And she certainly
could travel some. We got one on you and Billy
that time.”
“You seem to have got one on yourselves,” returned
Dan, grimly.
“Didn’t you know enough to wait till the river
really froze over, Money?” questioned Billy, with
some disgust.
“Aw, that Barry!” grumbled young Stevens.
“He was crazy to try her out. And we got
up this morning before sun-up. Sure, she
whizzed——”
“We were watching you come down the river,”
admitted Dan.
“Say! couldn’t she travel?” exclaimed Stevens.
“You bet,” agreed Billy. “How far up the
Colasha did you go?”
“Went around Island Number One——”
“And we’d been all right,” snarled Barry
Spink, who seemed to take an interest in affairs
for the first time, “if it hadn’t been for that
dummy. He put the jinx on us.”
“The jinx!” exclaimed Billy, laughing.
But Dan had noticed something else, and he repeated,
curiously: “‘Dummy?’ What d’ye
mean—dummy?”
They had reached the motor-truck and Billy
hustled the half-drowned youths into the seat and
bundled them up in the robe and blankets while
Dan started the motor.
.bn 022.png
.pn +1
“Back to the fire house—eh, Dan?” he asked
his brother, as he slid under the wheel.
“The boiler room at the shops is nearer.
They’ll take ’em in and dry them,” advised the
older Speedwell.
“I—I don’t care where in the world you take
us as—as long’s it’s hot,” wailed Barrington
Spink.
“But how about this ‘dummy’?” demanded
Dan, of Monroe Stevens.
“Why, we had stopped at Island Number One
and were repairing the rudder, when along come
this feller who couldn’t talk.”
“Couldn’t talk?” cried Billy, waking up to the
coincidence, too, and looking at Dan, amazed.
“Why! there must be two of them.”
“Two what?” queried Stevens.
“You called him a dummy. Is he really
dumb?”
“He mumbled something or other when we
asked him to help us,” explained Monroe; “but
it wasn’t anything human. And Barry declared
it was bad luck to meet a dummy.”
“And so it is!” snapped young Spink.
“Doesn’t this prove it?”
“Funny about there being two fellows who act
like dummies being at large,” remarked Dan to
Billy.
.bn 023.png
.pn +1
“I should say so,” agreed the younger brother.
“Say, Money! where’d your dummy go to when
he wouldn’t help you chaps?”
“He was comin’ across from the mainland,
and he went up into the woods on Island Number
One. I bet he’s stopping there,” answered
Stevens.
“Nonsense! there’s nothing on that island. No
hut, nor any shelter. Bet he was going right
along across the river.”
“Well, he didn’t go on while we were up that
way, for when we got the White Albatross fixed,
we sailed around the island and come down on
the far side—and the snow lay all along the edge
of the island there, and there wasn’t a footprint
in it. Oh! here’s the shops. My goodness! won’t
it be—be go-o-od to get next to—a fire,” chattered
Stevens.
When the Speedwells had seen the shivering
castaways humped upon stools before the boilers,
they hurried away to deliver the remainder of
their bottled milk. On the way to Colonel Sudds’s
Dan said:
“What do you think of this ‘dummy’ they
talk about, Billy?”
“Funny. Wonder if he’s the twin of the one
we’ve got at our house?”
“Question is, have we got him at our house?”
returned Dan, thoughtfully.
.bn 024.png
.pn +1
“Pshaw! the folks wouldn’t let him leave so
soon. If he was at Island Number One so early,
he must have left our house soon after we did,”
declared Billy. “And that isn’t troubling me,”
he added.
“What is?” asked his brother, smiling.
“Why—it’s no trouble. Not really. But there
is something that is buzzing in my head,
Dan.”
“I knew there was a bee in your bonnet,”
chuckled his elder.
“Oh, you did? How smart you are! But I
don’t believe you can guess what sort of a bee
it is?”
“No-o. Some new idea, I reckon?”
“You bet it is, old man!” declared Billy, with
enthusiasm. “And a big idea, too.”
“Let’s have it,” urged the older Speedwell.
“Well! you know about this Barry Spink; don’t
you?”
“I know he’s not long in Riverdale.”
“Yes. But where he comes from?”
“Up the Hudson somewhere.”
“Crickey! that’s just it,” cried Billy, with rising
excitement. “Up where he has lived the winters
are long and hard. The rivers and lakes freeze
over usually in November, and stay frozen until
February or March. And I bet that fellow knows
all about iceboating.”
.bn 025.png
.pn +1
“Don’t you tell him so,” advised Dan, with a
grin. “He’s got a swelled head as it is—I can
see that.”
“Never mind, Spink. That isn’t exactly what
I mean—not what he knows. But he and his
busted iceboat have put something into my head,
old man.”
“Out with it, boy.”
“It’s just this: Let’s go in for an iceboat ourselves.
Let’s get the fellows of the Outing Club
interested—and maybe some of the girls, too—Mildred,
and Lettie, and some of the others.
And we’ll have races, and all that.”
“If the ice gets thick enough and ‘stays put,’”
suggested Dan, slowly.
“You said yourself last night,” Billy declared,
quickly, “that the almanac man promised a real
winter this time.”
“And we’re getting a piece of it right now.
Jinks! maybe you’ve got a big idea, Billy.”
“Sure I have. And if that chump, Barry Spink,
can build a boat as good as that White Albatross,
what’s the matter with us building a better?”
“Now you’re talking,” agreed his brother, with
growing enthusiasm. “Hustle now, Billy! there
goes the first bell. We’ve only just time to get
the truck under the shed and hustle into school.
Got my books with yours? Come on, then,” and
the Speedwells hurried off to the academy.
.bn 026.png
.pn +1
.pm chap III "MORE THAN ONE MYSTERY"
The two reckless youths who had tried out the
iceboat and lost her that morning did not appear
at the academy during the forenoon session. Indeed,
Barrington Spink was not an attendant at
the Riverdale school.
He was a recent comer to the town and the
boys knew very little about him, save in a general
way. He was the son of a widowed lady who
seemed to have a superabundance of cash and
who was very proud and haughty.
Mrs. Spink had bought a large house on the
outskirts of Riverdale, had furnished it gaudily,
hired a host of servants, repainted and refurbished
everything about the place, including the iron dog
on the lawn, and had set up a carriage and pair
as well as an automobile.
The Speedwells had often seen Barrington
Spink around town before the occasion when Billy
had hauled him out of the icy river, but had
never spoken to him. Monroe Stevens belonged
to one of the wealthiest families in Riverdale and
naturally Spink had gravitated toward “Money,”
as the other boys called Monroe.
.bn 027.png
.pn +1
After school was out and Dan and Billy were
walking across the square towards Appleyard’s to
get the truck (they had not gone home at noon)
they came face to face with the newcomer to
Riverdale.
He was with Wiley Moyle and Fisher Greene,
both of the so-called “aristocracy” of Riverdale,
but good fellows both of them and Billy’s particular
friends.
“Say, Billy,” remarked Fisher, grinning,
“Barry here has just been telling us how you
pulled him out of the river this morning. The
chill hasn’t got out of him yet, you see,” he
added, with a meaning glance at young Spink,
who had nodded very distantly in return for the
Speedwells’ hearty greeting.
“He was just asking us about you,” drawled
Wiley Moyle, “and we told him that Riverdale
would have to go without lacteal fluid in its coffee
if it wasn’t for you and Dan.”
“And our cows,” replied Billy, seriously.
“They have something to do with the milk supply,
I assure you.”
“And the barn pump—I know,” chuckled
Wiley, grinning saucily.
“Oh—I—say,” stammered Spink, eyeing Billy
rather askance. Dan and some of the older boys
were discussing an important topic some distance
away. “I didn’t suppose you fellows really made
a chum of this—er—Speedwell boy.”
.bn 028.png
.pn +1
“Huh?” grunted Wiley. Wiley’s folks were
rich enough, but his father made him earn most
of his own spending money, and Wiley helped
around Jim Blizzard’s newspaper office on Saturdays
and after school. “I knew you were a
chump, Barry; but this——”
“Oh, I’m obliged enough to him, I’m sure,”
said Spink, airily. “He certainly helped me out
of the river.”
He had been fumbling in his pocket while he
spoke and now brought out a little flat packet of
folded bills. Selecting one, he approached Billy
Speedwell, who, having first flushed at the fellow’s
impudent tone, was now grinning as broadly
as Wiley and Fisher.
“Re’lly,” said young Spink, “you did that very
bravely, Speedwell. Here is a little—er—something
to show my appreciation.”
Billy had accepted the dollar bill and at once
fished up a handful of silver from the depths of
his trousers’ pocket.
“Hold on! hold on, Mr. Spink!” he exclaimed.
“If you mean to pay me with this for
saving your life, there is no need of overpaying
me. Here! there’s ninety-five cents change—count
it. And I’m not sure that I’m not charging
you too much as it is.”
.bn 029.png
.pn +1
Fisher and Wiley Moyle burst into a roar of
laughter, and Barrington Spink turned several different
colors, as he realized that Billy had made
him look like a goose.
“Why—why——That fellow’s only a milkman,”
sputtered Spink, as Billy drifted over to
the bigger crowd of boys to hear what was
afoot.
“You give me a pain in my solar plexus—you
gump!” snapped Fisher Greene. “Why,
Billy and Dan have got twenty thousand dollars
or more in their own right. Didn’t you ever hear
of the treasure of Rocky Cove? Well, those are
the boys who got the emeralds—they, and the
old Admiral and Mr. Asa Craig. You want to
take a tumble to yourself, Barry Spink!” and he
moved away from the new boy.
Barrington Spink’s eyes fairly bulged. “He—he’s
kiddin’ me; isn’t he?” he demanded of the
grinning Wiley.
“Not so’s you’d notice it,” returned Moyle.
“Not twenty thousand dollars?”
“Thereabout.”
“And they run a milk route?”
“That’s Mr. Speedwell’s business. And fellows
around Riverdale have to work the same as
their dads did when they were boys. There are
not many drones in this town, let me tell you,”
concluded Wiley.
.bn 030.png
.pn +1
He started over to the other boys, too, and
left Spink alone. The new boy was “in bad,”
and he began to realize that fact. Perhaps he
couldn’t help being born a snob; having his standards
set by a foolish and worldly mother had
made Barrington Spink an insufferable sort of
fellow.
“The peasantry of this country doesn’t know
its place,” Mrs. Spink often observed. “That is
why I so much prefer living in Yurrup.” That
is the way she pronounced it. If the truth were
known (but it wasn’t—Mrs. Spink saw to that)
the lady’s father was once a laborer on a railroad;
but the mantle of Mr. Spink’s family greatness
had fallen upon her.
“If it wasn’t for Mr. Spink’s peculiar will,”
she often sighed, “I should not venture to contaminate
Barrington with the very common people
one is forced to meet in this country. But Mr.
Spink had peculiar ideas. He left Barrington’s
guardians no choice. My poor boy must be educated
in American schools, doncher know!”
And Barry was getting a fine education! He
had shifted from place to place and from school
to school, learning about as little as the law allowed,
and doing about as he pleased. Now he
was so far behind other boys of his age in his
studies that he was ashamed to enter the Riverdale
Academy until the tutor his mother had engaged
whipped Barry’s jaded mind into some sort
of alignment with those of the boys who would
be his schoolmates.
.bn 031.png
.pn +1
The boys surrounding Dan Speedwell were enthusiastic
and all tried to talk at once. A flock
of crows on the edge of a cornfield could have
been no more noisy.
“Greatest little old idea ever was sprung!”
shouted one.
“Takes the Speedwells to hatch up this ‘new
thought’ stuff,” whooped Jim Stetson. “What
d’ye say, boys? Tell it!”
.in +8
.nf l
“Dan! Dan! He’s the man!
Dan, Dan Speedwell!”
.nf-
.in
The yell from the crowd made everybody in
the snowy square turn to look; but when they
saw the crowd of boys from the academy the
spectators merely smiled. Boyish enthusiasm in
Riverdale frequently “spilled over,” and nobody
but Josiah Somes, the constable, minded it—and
he considered it better to give the matter none
of his official attention.
“Meeting to-night, fellows, in the Boat Club
house—don’t forget!” shouted one of the bigger
boys. “We’ll give this iceboat scheme the once
over.”
.bn 032.png
.pn +1
“It’s a great idea,” declared Wiley Moyle,
enthusiastically. “And they tell me the river
above Long Bridge is already solid as a brick
pavement.”
“It isn’t so solid below the bridge—or it wasn’t
this morning,” chuckled Billy Speedwell. “Mr.
Spink can tell us all about that.”
But Barrington Spink was hurrying rapidly
away.
“Why, if the Speedwells have all the money
Wiley says they have, they’re worth cultivating,”
he muttered to himself—which is one of the mysteries
that bothered Dan and Billy during the
next few days. They wondered much why Spink’s
manner should so change toward them. The boy
hung about them and tried to make friends with
“the milkmen” in every possible way.
The other—and more important mystery—met
Dan and Billy when they arrived home that very
afternoon. The strange boy that Billy had
knocked down the evening before, had disappeared.
“When we got up this morning, after you boys
had gone,” explained their father, “that fellow
had skedaddled. What do you think of that?
And without a word!”
“Then Money Stevens may have seen him over
by Island Number One!” cried Billy.
“It looks so,” admitted Dan. “I didn’t think
there could be two chaps who couldn’t talk, in
the neighborhood.”
.bn 033.png
.pn +1
“That’s not all, boys,” cried Carrie Speedwell.
“Just see what little ’Dolph picked up.”
She presented a crumpled slip of paper for
Dan and Billy to read.
“’Dolph found it right there beside the bed
that strange boy slept on. He must have dropped
it. See how it reads, Dan?”
Dan read the line scrawled on the paper, aloud:
.sp 2
“Buried on the island. Dummy will show you
the spot.”
.sp 2
There was no signature, nor address—just the
brief line. What it could refer to—what thing
was buried, and on what island, was hard to
understand. Only, it was quite certain that the
“Dummy” referred to was the youthful stranger
who could not talk English understandably.
“I am awful sorry he went away without his
breakfast,” sighed Mrs. Speedwell. “And he
didn’t look half fed, at best. It is too bad.”
“He’ll have a fine time living over on Island
Number One at this season,” whispered Billy to
Dan.
“Don’t let mother hear you,” replied the older
boy, quickly. “She’d only worry.”
“Better let ‘Dummy’ do the worrying,”
chuckled Billy.
.bn 034.png
.pn +1
“Well! it’s mighty odd,” said Dan, shaking
his head. “And I really would like to know
what’s buried on the island.”
“So would I,” said Billy. “Treasure—eh?”
“You’ve got treasure on the brain, boy,”
grinned the older youth. “You’re getting mercenary.
Haven’t you got wealth enough? We’re
capitalists.”
“Yes—I know,” said Billy, nodding. “But I
wonder if we’ve got money enough to get us the
fastest iceboat that’s going to be raced on the
Colasha this winter?”
“Ah! now you’ve said it,” agreed Dan. “But
it isn’t going to be money that will get us that
boat. We’ve got to learn something about iceboat
building as well as iceboat sailing.”
“Huh! that blamed little wisp, Barry Spink,”
grunted Billy.
“What about him now?” asked Dan, laughing.
“As inconsequential as he is, he’s got the whole
town ‘bug’ on iceboating. He’ll be all swelled
up like a toad.”
“We should worry!” returned Dan, with a
shrug of his broad shoulders.
.bn 035.png
.pn +1
.pm chap IV "THE “FLY-UP-THE-CREEK”"
Mildred Kent, the doctor’s daughter, and
her closest friend, Lettie Parker, halted the
Speedwells at the close of school the next day.
Mildred was a very pretty girl and Dan thought
she was just about right. As for the sharp-tongued
Lettie, she and Billy appeared to be always
quarreling—in a good-natured way.
“We want to know what’s in the wind, boys?”
demanded Mildred, her pretty face framed by a
tall sealskin collar and her hands in a big shawl
muff.
“There’s snow in this wind,” replied Billy,
chuckling, for a few sharp flakes were being
driven past the quartette as they stood upon the
corner.
“Aren’t you smart, Billy Speedwell!” scoffed
the red-haired Lettie. “Doesn’t it pain you?”
“You bet it does!” agreed Billy, promptly.
“But they tell me that you suffer a deal yourself,
Miss Parker, from the same complaint.”
.bn 036.png
.pn +1
“Now, children! children!” admonished Mildred.
“Can’t you be together at all without
scrapping?”
“And what about the wind, Mildred?” asked
Dan.
“You boys were all down to the Boat Club last
night, I hear. What is doing?”
“Aw, don’t tell ’em, Dan!” urged Billy, as
though he really meant it. “They’ll want to play
the part of the Buttinsky Sisters—you know they
will!”
“I like that!” gasped Lettie, clenching her
little gloved fist. “Oh! I wish sometimes I was
a boy, Billy Speedwell!”
“Gee, Lettie! Isn’t it lucky you’re not?” he
gasped. “There’d be no living in the same town
with you. I like you a whole lot better as you
are——”
Dan and Mildred laughed, but Lettie was very
red in the face still, and not at all pacified, as she
declared:
“I believe I’d die content if I could just trounce
you once—as you should be trounced!”
“Help! help! Ath-thith-tance, pleath!”
begged Billy, keeping just out of the red-haired
girl’s reach. “If you ever undertook to
thrash me, Lettie, I know I’d just be scared to
death.”
.bn 037.png
.pn +1
“Come now,” urged Mildred. “You are both
delaying the game. And it’s cold here on the
street corner. I want to know.”
“And what do you want to know, Miss?” demanded
Billy.
“Why, I can tell you what we did last evening,
if that’s what you want to know, Mildred,” said
Dan, easily. “There’s nothing secret about it.”
“You can’t be going to plan any boat races this
time of year?” exclaimed Lettie. “The paper
says we’re going to have a hard winter and the
Colasha steamboat line has laid off all its hands
and closed up for the season. They say the river
is likely to be impassable until spring.”
“That’s all you know about it,” interposed
Billy. “We just did agree to have boat races on
the river last evening. Now, then! what do you
think?”
“I think all the Riverdale boys are crazy,”
returned Lettie, promptly.
“What does he mean, Dan?” asked Mildred.
“Poof! Boat racing! Likely story,” grumbled
the red-haired girl.
“Now, isn’t that the truth, Dan?” demanded
Billy, but careful to circle well around Miss Parker
to put his brother and Mildred between himself
and the county clerk’s daughter.
“As far as it goes,” admitted Dan, chuckling.
“But he doesn’t go far enough. We did talk
some about having boat races—iceboat races.”
.bn 038.png
.pn +1
“Oh, ho!” cried Lettie. Her eyes flashed and
she began to smile again. “Iceboats, Dannie?
Really?”
“But I thought they were so dangerous?” demurred
Mildred, rather timidly. “Didn’t Monroe
Stevens and somebody else almost get
drowned yesterday morning trying out an iceboat?”
“’Deed they did,” admitted Billy. “But the
river wasn’t fit.”
“And you boys got them out of the water,
too!” exclaimed Lettie, suddenly. “I heard
about it.”
“Somebody had to pull ’em out, so why not
we?” returned Dan quickly, with perfect seriousness.
“And you boys are going to build another
boat?” asked Mildred.
“A dozen, perhaps,” laughed Billy.
“We’ll build one if nothing happens to prevent—Billy
and I,” said Dan. “And if the interest
continues, and there are enough boats on the
river to make it worth while, we’ll have a regatta
bye and bye.”
“An iceboat regatta! Won’t that be novel?”
cried Mildred.
But Lettie was interested in another phase of
it. She demanded: “How big is your boat going
to be, Billy?”
.bn 039.png
.pn +1
“Oh, a good big one,” he said, confidently.
“Eh, Dan?”
“We haven’t decided on the dimensions. I
want to make a plan of her first,” Dan said, seriously.
“Well, now! let me tell you one thing,” said
the decisive Lettie. “You have got to build it
big enough to carry four—hasn’t he, Mildred?”
“Four what?” demanded Billy.
“Four people, of course. You’re not going
to be stingy, Billy Speedwell! You know our
mothers wouldn’t hear of our sailing an iceboat;
but if you boys take us——”
“Ho!” cried Billy. “You don’t know what
you’re talking about, Let!”
“There isn’t any place you go, Billy Speedwell,
that I can’t!” cried the red-haired one, who had
always been something of a tomboy. “And I’m
not afraid to do anything that you dare to do—so
there!”
“Dear me, Lettie don’t get so excited,” advised
Mildred. “Do you suppose girls could sail
on your iceboat, Dan?”
“Why not? An iceboat is no more dangerous
than a sailboat. And I intend to build our boat
with a shallow box on the body so that at least
two passengers can lie down in it comfortably.”
“Lie down in it?” queried Lettie, in a puzzled
tone.
.bn 040.png
.pn +1
“Of course,” grunted Billy, “or the boom
would knock their silly heads off when the boat
comes about. Don’t you know?”
“To be sure! ‘Low bridge!’ I’ve sailed
enough on a catboat to know when to ‘duck,’ I
hope,” returned Lettie.
“And we can sail with you, Dan?” Mildred
was saying. “Do—do you think it will be safe?”
“Perfectly,” replied the older Speedwell.
“Not, of course, when we race. We’ll carry
only ballast, then, and one of us will have to stand
on the outrigger to keep the boat from turning
turtle——”
“Oh, that sounds dreadfully exciting!” gasped
Lettie, her eyes shining.
“It sounds pretty dangerous,” observed Mildred.
“You two boys are speed crazy, I believe!
Burton Poole’s got a new car—have you seen it?
He says it is a fast one.”
“Pooh!” returned Billy. “Burton’s got to
get up awfully early in the morning to be in the
same class with us.”
“Never mind the autos,” said Mildred, briskly.
“We’ve got what we want, Lettie,” and she
laughed. “Remember, boys! we’re to have first
call on your iceboat when it is built.”
“Oh, yes! When it is built,” said her chum,
laughing. “We’re all counting our chickens before
they’re hatched.”
.bn 041.png
.pn +1
“You wait till a week from Saturday, Let,”
said Billy, with confidence. “By that time we’ll
have hatched a pretty good-sized chicken—eh,
Dan?”
His brother would not promise; but that very
night the boys drew plans for the ice racer they
intended to build. Mr. Speedwell owned a valuable
piece of timber, and the boys always had a
few seasoned logs on hand. They selected the
sticks they needed, sledded them to the mill, had
them sawed right, and then set to work on the
big barn floor and worked the sticks down with
hand tools.
They even made their own boom, for Mr.
Speedwell helped them, and he was a first-class
carpenter. The iron work they had made at the
local blacksmith shop. The canvas for the sails
came from Philadelphia, from a mail order house.
Before the middle of the next week the Speedwells
carted the new boat down to old John
Bromley’s dock in sections, put it together on the
ice, and John helped them make the sails and
bend them, he knowing just how this should
be done.
They had a private trial of the boat one afternoon,
towards dark, and she worked beautifully.
Even Bromley, who had not seen many iceboats
and was an old, deep-water sailor was enthusiastic
when he saw the craft, with Dan at the helm,
skim across the river, tack beautifully, and return
on the wind.
.bn 042.png
.pn +1
They then started to give her a couple of coats
of bright paint.
“What you goin’ to call her boys?” Bromley
asked.
“Ought to be something with feathers—she’s
a bird,” laughed Billy.
“And we’re going to ‘hatch’ her about as
quick as you promised the girls,” his brother remarked.
“Barry Spink’s is the White Albatross—he’s
going to name it after the boat he and Money
wrecked.”
“Bird names seem popular,” said Dan.
“Fisher Green has sent for a craft already
built. He showed me the catalog. His will be
called the Redbird.”
“Say!” shouted Billy, grinning. “I got it!”
“Let’s have it, then,” advised his brother.
“What’s the matter with the Fly-up-the-Creek?
There’s nothing much quicker on the wing, is
there?”
“Bully!” agreed Dan, with an answering
smile. “And I bet nobody else on the river will
think of that for a name. She’s christened! Fly-up-the-Creek
she is. But I wonder what Milly
and Lettie will say to that name?”
.bn 043.png
.pn +1
.pm chap V "WINGED STEEL"
There was a moon that week and the nights
were glorious. While most of the Riverdale
young folk were skating in the Boat Club Cove,
the Speedwell brothers were trying out the iceboat
each evening, and “learning the ropes.”
The proper handling of a craft the size of the
one Dan and Billy had built is no small art. With
the huge mainsail and jib they had rigged, she
could gather terrific speed even when the wind
was light. She might better have been called an
“ice yacht.”
When the ringing steel was skimming the ice at
express-train speed, the two boys had to have their
wits about them every moment of the time. Dan
handled the helm and the sheet, while Billy rode
the crossbeam for balance, and to keep the outrigger
runner on the ice.
For boys who had entered in semi-professional
motorcycle races, and had handled a Breton-Melville
racing car, the speed gathered under normal
conditions by this sailing iceboat seemed
merely ordinary. What she would do in a gale
was another matter.
.bn 044.png
.pn +1
While they had been building the craft just
enough rain fell to wash the snow from the roads;
and as the frost came sharply immediately upon
the clearance of the rainstorm, almost the entire
river surface was like glass. The cold was intense,
and the Colasha froze solid. The icemen
were cutting eighteen inches at Karnac Lake,
it was reported.
There were few airholes between the Long
Bridge and the lake (Dan and Billy covered the
entire length of the river between those two
places) and almost no spots where the swiftness
of the current made the ice weak. As for the
tides—the ice was too firm now to be affected by
ordinary tides above the Boat Club Cove.
As Bromley’s dock was above the Long Bridge,
few of their mates saw the Speedwells’ craft at
all. The Speedwell house was within a short distance
of John Bromley’s and not many of the
academy boys and girls lived at this end of
Riverdale.
So what the Fly-up-the-Creek could do was
known only to Dan and Billy. They sailed her
one night away up the river, past Meadville, the
mills, and the penitentiary, and so on to the entrance
to Karnac Lake. It was certainly a
great sail.
.bn 045.png
.pn +1
“Would you believe she’d slide along so rapidly
with nothing but a puff of wind now and
then?” gasped Billy, as they tacked and came
about for the return run.
“That’s all right,” Dan returned. “But suppose
we got off so far and the wind gave out on
us altogether? Wouldn’t that be an awful
mess?”
“Gee!” exclaimed Billy, laughing. “We
ought to have an auxiliary engine on her—eh?
How about it, boy?”
“Why, Billy!” exclaimed Dan, “that might
not be such a bad idea.”
“Wouldn’t work; would it?” asked the
younger boy, curiously. “I only said that for
a joke.”
“Well——”
“You’re not serious, Dan?” gasped Billy, seeing
his brother’s thoughtful face.
“I—don’t—know——”
“Whoo!” burst out Billy. “You’re off on a
cloud again, Dan, old boy! Whoever heard of
a motor iceboat? Zing!”
“Hits you hard; does it?” chuckled Dan.
“I—should—say! Wouldn’t it be ‘some
pumpkins’ to own an engine-driven craft that
would make Money, and Spink, and Burton
Poole, and all the others that are going in for
iceboating, look like thirty cents?”
“I admire your slang, boy,” said Dan, in a
tone that meant he didn’t admire it.
.bn 046.png
.pn +1
“Well, but, Dan! you know that idea is preposterous.”
“You’re wrong. There are sleds, or boats,
being used on the Antarctic ice right now, propelled
by gasoline—an air propeller and a series
of ‘claws’ that grip the ice underneath the body
of the sledge.”
“Air propeller?” cried Billy. “Why, there
isn’t resistance enough in the air to give her any
speed.”
“Not like a propeller in the water, of course.
Yet, how do aeroplanes fly?”
“Gee! that’s so.”
“But, suppose we had a small engine on here
and a sprocket wheel attachment—something
right under the main beam to grip the ice and
force her ahead?”
“Great, Dannie!” exclaimed the younger boy,
instantly converted.
“Well—it might not work, after all,” said
Dan, slowly.
“Let’s try it!”
“We’ll see. Where we lose headway on this
Fly-up-the-Creek is when we head her around, or
the wind dies on us altogether. Then the auxiliary
engine might help—eh?”
“Great!” announced Billy again. “We
wouldn’t get becalmed out here on the river then,
that’s sure.”
.bn 047.png
.pn +1
The boat was creeping down the river right
then, failing a strong current of air to fill the
canvas. The string of islands that broke the current
of the Colasha below Meadville was on their
left hand. The last island—or, the first as they
sailed up the river—was the largest of all, and
was called Island Number One.
As the iceboat rumbled down stream Billy
asked, suddenly:
“What do you think about that dummy, Dan?
Suppose he’s over yonder?”
“On the island?”
“Yep.”
Dan viewed the high “hogback” of the island
curiously. It was well wooded, but the boys had
often been ashore and had never seen a hut, nor
other shelter, upon it. Dan shook his head.
“Where would the poor fellow stay? What
did he do through that cold rainstorm—don’t see
a sign of smoke. He can’t be there, Billy.”
“I know it doesn’t seem probable,” admitted
the younger boy. “But remember that paper
’Dolph found. Something’s buried there, and
Dummy was left to guard it.”
“How romantic!” chuckled Dan.
“Well! isn’t that so?” demanded the younger
lad.
“We don’t know what that line of writing
really means,” said Dan.
.bn 048.png
.pn +1
“Huh! It’s plain enough. Oh, Dan!”
The younger boy had turned again to look at
the island as the iceboat slid out of its shadow.
“What’s the matter now?” demanded Dan.
“Look there! Up—up yonder! Isn’t that
smoke?”
“Smoke from what?” demanded Dan, glancing
over his shoulder quickly. He dared not
neglect the course ahead for long, although the
boat was not traveling fast.
“From fire, of course!” snapped Billy.
“What does smoke usually come from?”
“Sometimes from a pipe,” chuckled Dan. “I
don’t see anything——”
“Above the tops of those trees—right in the
middle of the island.”
“I—don’t—see——”
“There! rising straight against the sky.”
“Why—it’s mist—frost—something,” growled
Dan. “It can’t be smoke.”
“I tell you it is!” cried Billy. “What else
could it be? There’s no mist in such frosty
weather as this.”
“But—smoke?”
“Why not?” cried Billy. “I bet that Dummy
is over there.”
“Then he must have his campfire in the tops
of the trees,” chuckled Dan. “Now where’s
your smoke, Billy?”
.bn 049.png
.pn +1
A puff of wind swooped down upon them. Dan
had to attend to the management of the Fly-up-the-Creek.
The puff of wind was followed by
another. Soon the current of air became steady
and the iceboat whisked down the river at a
faster pace.
“Where’s your smoke now?” Dan repeated.
“Wind’s whipped it away, of course,” grinned
his brother. “Gee! can’t this thing travel?”
The experience of skimming the crystal surface
of the river was yet so new that Billy gave his
whole mind to it, and forgot Dummy and the
faint trace of smoke he had seen against the starlit
sky, hovering over Island Number One.
This slant of wind that had suddenly swooped
down the icy channel drove the craft on as though
it really were a bird winging its way homeward.
The steel rang again, and at every little ripple
in the ice the outrigger leaped into the air.
As the speed increased, Billy crept out upon
the crossbeam so as to ballast it. A little cloud
of fine ice particles followed the boat and the
wind whined in the taut rigging.
They had no means of telling how fast the
boat flew, for it was impossible to properly time
her by their watches and the landmarks along the
river bank; but Dan and Billy were quite sure
that they had never come down the stream any
faster in their power boat than they did now.
.bn 050.png
.pn +1
There was a piece of “pebbly” ice inshore, not
far below Island Number One, and Dan remembered
its location. Therefore he changed the
course of the iceboat and she shot over toward
the far bank.
Billy shouted something to him, but he could
not hear what it was. The younger boy pointed
ahead, and Dan stooped to peer under the boom.
The moon had drawn a thin veil of cloud over
her face and, for the moment, her light was almost
withdrawn. A mist seemed rising from the
ice itself; but Dan knew that was a mere illusion.
Suddenly the moon cast aside her veil and her
full light scintillated across the river. Billy uttered
a yell and waved a warning arm as he gazed
ahead. Dan saw it, too.
It seemed as though a wide channel had suddenly
opened right ahead of the rushing iceboat—they
could see the moonlight glinting across the
tiny waves of an open stretch of water.
.bn 051.png
.pn +1
.pm chap VI "GETTING INTO TRIM"
Ready as the Speedwell boys were in most
emergencies, here was an occasion in which it
seemed that disaster could not be averted. That
is the principal peril of iceboating; it is impossible
to stop a craft, once she is under fast way,
within a reasonable distance.
It was too late to drop the sail and hope to
bring the Fly-up-the-Creek to a halt before her
nose was in the open water. For the instant Dan
Speedwell’s heart seemed to stand still.
There flashed across his mind the remembrance
of how that other iceboat—the White Albatross—had
gone into the open river. Had he and
Billy not been on the spot, as they were, Money
Stevens and Barrington Spink would doubtless
have been drowned.
And here was another such accident. The iceboat
flew right down to the wide channel where
the moonbeams glanced upon the ripples——
But she kept right on in her flight, and to Dan’s
amazement the runners rumbled over the apparently
open water with an increasing roar!
.bn 052.png
.pn +1
“Crickey!” shrieked Billy, turning a grin upon
his brother, “didn’t you think that was open
water, Dan? I thought we were done for—I
really did! And it was only the moonlight glistening
upon a rough piece of ice.”
Dan’s heart resumed its regular beat; but he
knew that—had it been daylight instead of moonlight—his
brother would have observed how pale
he was. Seldom had his coolness been put to a
keener test than at that moment.
“I tell you what it is,” Dan said, discussing
the incident with his brother afterward, “iceboating
is a job where a fellow has to have his
head about him all the time. And we’ve got to
be especially careful if we take the girls riding
on this thing.”
“If we do!” grunted Billy. “Why, if we
don’t, Mildred and Lettie will give us no peace—you
know that, Dan.”
“Just the same, we’ll not take ’em with us
when there’s any sign of a gale on the river. It
means too much. There are too many chances in
iceboating.”
During this week some of the other Riverdale
boys had been busy. Monroe Stevens’s Redbird
arrived and made a pretty show on the river near
town. Money maneuvered it about the cove and
up and down the stretch of river near the Boat
Club very nicely.
.bn 053.png
.pn +1
Barrington Spink had saved the mast and sail
from the wreck of his old boat and local mechanics
had built for him another White Albatross.
As he had plenty of money he easily obtained
what he wanted, including a mate to help handle
the iceboat. But, as a whole, the boys and girls
of Riverdale did not quite “cotton” to the new
boy.
Came Saturday, however, and there were more
than a few of the Outing Club down by the river
to watch the maneuvers of the iceboats. Although
the skating was excellent, it was neglected while
the young folk watched Money Stevens get under
way and shoot out of the cove in his Redbird.
The White Albatross was a larger boat than
Money’s and it was rigged up quite handsomely.
There were cushions in the box-body, and neat
hand-rails. Money had taken out his sister Ella
and Maybell Turner; so now Barry wanted to
inveigle some of the girls into his craft.
Mildred and Lettie were waiting for the appearance
of the Speedwells, but not altogether
sure that they would come. The girls hadn’t had
a chance to speak to Dan and Billy for several
days.
“Do you suppose they have finished the boat
they were building?” Lettie asked the doctor’s
daughter.
“When Dan promises a thing——”
.bn 054.png
.pn +1
“I know,” Lettie broke in, hastily. “But he
isn’t infallible. And I do want to try iceboating.
That Barry Spink hinted that he’d take me out if
I wanted to go. Here he comes now.”
Spink came forward, all smiles and costume—and
the latter was really a wonderful get-up for
Riverdale. Most of the boys of the Outing Club
were content to wear caps lettered “R. O. C.”
and call it square. That is as near to a uniform
as many of them got.
But Barry Spink was dressed for the occasion.
His outfit was something between a Canadian
tobogganing costume and a hockey suit. He wore
white wool knickerbockers, gray stockings, high-laced
boots, a crimson sweater and a white “night-cap”
arrangement on his head—one of those
floppy, pointed caps with a tassel.
Lettie couldn’t help giggling when he approached;
nevertheless she managed to greet him
with some show of calm.
“This is my friend, Miss Kent, Mr. Spink,”
said Lettie. “How nice your boat looks, Mr.
Spink!”
“Ya-as,” drawled Barry. “I think she’s the
goods, all right. I’m just going to hoist the sail.
Wouldn’t you ladies like to take a little trip?”
“In the White Albatross? Oh! I don’t know
that we really could,” said Lettie, her eyes
dancing.
.bn 055.png
.pn +1
“You needn’t be afraid,” returned Barry, airily.
“I have managed iceboats since I was a
child—re’lly!”
“Let’s go!” whispered Lettie to her friend.
“No,” said Mildred, firmly. “I am obliged
to you, Mr. Spink; but we have promised to go
out with Dan and Billy Speedwell in their boat—if
they come down the river. And I would not
care to disappoint them.”
“Oh, pshaw!” laughed Spink. “I heard they
were trying to build an iceboat. But, of course,
having no experience, they’ll never be able to do
it. Money bought his boat all ready to put together,
and it is a fairly good one; but it takes
experience to build—as well as to handle—an ice
racer.”
“What’s that coming?” cried Lettie, suddenly.
They stood where they could get a view of
several miles of the upper reaches of the Colasha.
The Redbird was just swooping around to return
to the Cove; but beyond Money’s boat there
had suddenly appeared another sail.
It was a huge sail and it flew over the ice at
a terrific pace. Everybody about the Boat Club
landing saw it, and the interest became general.
“There’s another iceboat, Mr. Spink,” exclaimed
Lettie. “And see it fly! I guess there
are others besides you and Money who know how
to sail such craft.”
.bn 056.png
.pn +1
“I declare!” said Spink, in surprise. “It’s
re’lly coming finely. Must be, Miss Parker, that
you have some professionals here after all.”
“It’s Dan and Billy, of course,” declared Mildred.
Spink laughed at that statement. “Hardly,”
he said. “I have seen the professional racers on
the Hudson, and that is the way they manage
their craft. See it! what a swoop. See that fellow
standing up on that out-runner, and hanging
on just by his teeth, as you might say! That’s
some sailing—believe me!”
“It is Billy Speedwell!” cried Lettie, suddenly
becoming anxious. “He’ll be killed! The reckless
boy!”
“And it’s Dan at the helm,” added the doctor’s
daughter.
“Never!” exclaimed Barry. “It can’t be
those milkmen.”
But nobody paid any attention to the new boy
just then. The crowd all ran to watch the fast-flying
ice yacht speed down the river. Monroe
Stevens’s Redbird was nowhere. The strange
craft flew fully two lengths to its one, and
was very quickly at the entrance to the Boat
Club Cove.
They beheld Billy Speedwell hanging to the
wire cable that helped steady the mast, and swinging
far out from the out-runner, so as to help
keep that steel on the ice as the boat swung into
the cove.
.bn 057.png
.pn +1
Dan let go the sheet at just the right moment,
and the sail rattled down into the standing-room.
Billy dived for it, and kept the canvas from slatting,
or getting overboard under the runners.
Thus, under the momentum she had gained, the
craft ran in to the landing amid the cheers of the
Speedwells’ school fellows.
“Great work?”
“I’ve got something to tell you right now, Billy
Speedwell!” shouted Jim Stetson, above the confusion.
“Shoot, Jim! let’s have it,” returned the
younger Speedwell.
“You needn’t think you’re going to have it all
your own way in this iceboat game—so now,
Billy!”
“We don’t want it all our own way,” growled
Billy. “But I reckon we’ll show you fellows some
class, just the same.”
“Wait!” yelled Jim.
“What for?” demanded Billy.
“Wait till you see what Biff Hardy and I have
got. We’ll have the Snow Wraith on the ice next
week and then we’ll show you some sailing,” declared
Jim, confidently.
.bn 058.png
.pn +1
“Bully!” cried Billy. “The more the merrier.
I can see right now that if we have an iceboat
regatta here at Riverdale, it will be some
occasion.”
Indeed, the enthusiasm for the new sport increased
hourly. The sight of the Speedwells’
boat sweeping in to the landing had made the
heart of every spectator beat quicker. And, of
course, every fellow who was building an iceboat
believed that his was the better craft!
The girls had run down to the ice to see the
Speedwells’ boat at closer range.
“What under the sun do you call it?” gasped
Lettie Parker. “That’s a name for you! ‘Fly-up-the-Creek!’
Whoever heard of such a thing?”
“It’s the blue heron; isn’t it?” asked Mildred,
laughing.
“That’s what some folks say; but, anyhow,”
explained Dan, “the fly-up-the-creek flies so fast
that few people have ever seen one in full flight.”
“My goodness! aren’t you smart?” quoth
Lettie. “But why not select a pretty name for
it?”
“Goodness! not if you are going to sail with
us,” cried Billy. “We couldn’t afford such a
superabundance of beauty. A pretty name for
the boat as well as a couple of howling beauties
like you and Mildred——”
But Billy had to dodge Lettie’s vigorous palm
then, and for the next few moments he kept well
out of her reach.
.bn 059.png
.pn +1
He and Dan swung the craft around, raised
the sail again, tucked the two girls in under the
rugs with which they had furnished her, and then
shoved the Fly-up-the-Creek out from the land.
“We’re off!” yelled Billy, as he leaped aboard
the outrigger. “Bid us a fond farewell, and you
can reach us by wire at Lake Karnac.”
Meanwhile Barry Spink and his helper had got
the White Albatross under way. She was already
running for the mouth of the cove.
“You won’t be so lonely as you think, Billy,”
said Miss Parker, pointing a red mitten at Spink’s
craft. “Mr. Spink is going to show you boys
how an iceboat ought to be handled.”
“Crickey!” ejaculated Billy. “What a get-up!”
“Yes! isn’t he gay?” asked Mildred, smiling.
“Just the same,” Dan observed, quietly, “I
reckon that fellow can handle his boat all right.
He’s been living where they know all about iceboating.”
“Huh!” exclaimed his brother. “The only
time I ever saw him handle one he ran it into
the water. We ought to be able to do as well.”
“Oh!” cried Mildred. “Don’t you dare! I
wouldn’t have come if I thought there was any
danger of that.”
.bn 060.png
.pn +1
.pm chap VII "OUT ON THE ROAD"
The humming runners of the Fly-up-the-Creek
quickly drowned their voices. The wind was light,
and it was not fair for the boats running up
stream; yet handled right, the ice craft made good
speed in that direction.
Billy, by Dan’s order, shook out the jib, and
with all canvas drawing they made a long leg to
the farther shore of the Colasha, so that when
they tacked they were ahead of both the Redbird
and Barry Spink’s craft.
The three iceboats, however, were not far
apart at any time as they tacked up the river.
Money Stevens did not handle the Redbird as
smoothly or as neatly as did Barry Spink and
his mate; therefore the White Albatross was the
nearer to the Speedwells’ craft.
Once the Spink boat crossed the bows of the
Fly-up-the-Creek, and the excited Lettie cried:
“Oh, dear! that boy is beating us. Can’t you
go faster, Dan? I thought you always were
speedy?”
.bn 061.png
.pn +1
“No. Only Speedwell,” returned Dan, gravely.
“I think we’re going quite fast enough,” remarked
Mildred, who was clinging tightly to the
hempen loop that Dan had put into her hand
when they started.
“It does not follow that we’re being left behind
because the Albatross crossed in front of
us,” Dan reassured Lettie.
The girl raised up her head to look, and Billy
yelled at her:
“Low bridge! Down, I say! Do you want
your head knocked off?”
For at that moment Dan had brought the helm
about. The boom swept across the body of the
iceboat. Billy himself dropped to a horizontal
posture.
With creaking and groaning the huge sail bellied
out at just the right angle and the slant of
the wind flung the iceboat forward on the new
tack. She fairly leaped from the ice under the
momentum of that sudden gust, and both girls
screamed.
Billy laughed happily, for nobody was hurt, and
the Fly-up-the-Creek was almost at once on even
keel again. But the two girls could only cling
tight for the next few minutes and gasp their fear
into each other’s ears.
“Look behind!” commanded Dan, after a
minute.
.bn 062.png
.pn +1
Mildred and Lettie did so. To their amazement
both the White Albatross and the Redbird
were far astern. At least a mile separated them
from the Speedwells’ craft.
“How—how did you do it, Dannie?” asked
Mildred, wonderingly.
“Oh! whatever you did, don’t do it again,”
gasped Lettie.
“We went fast enough to suit you that time;
did we, Let?” chortled Billy.
“I merely took advantage of a flaw in the
wind,” declared Dan. “You see, the wind is not
steady this afternoon, and really, bye and bye, I
expect it will get around into a new quarter and
stick there. I was looking for that puff, and Spink
wasn’t. He tacked too soon and thought he had
beaten us. But now——”
“He won’t catch us in a week of Sundays!”
finished Billy, in delight.
The wind became so uncertain, however, within
the next few minutes, that Dan decided it was
inexpedient to continue farther than Island Number
One. There were clouds in the northeast,
too, and a storm might be on the way.
Therefore the boat was headed about and the
canvas filled again as the steel runners squealed
around the head of the island.
“Don’t see our friend the dummy anywhere,
Dan!” yelled Billy.
.bn 063.png
.pn +1
“Pshaw! there isn’t anybody on this island,”
returned his brother.
This attracted the girls’ attention and Lettie
asked, curiously: “Who is ‘the dummy,’ Billy?
Anybody I know?”
“Give it up! he may be one of your particular
friends for all I know,” returned the younger boy.
“But he doesn’t speak English—not so’s you
know what he says; and I never heard, Let, that
you were very proficient in French or German.
How about it?”
“What does he mean, Dan?” asked Lettie,
turning her back upon the other boy. “Who is
this dummy?”
Dan was pretty busy with the steering of the
boat, but he managed to tell the girls—briefly—of
his short association with the strange boy whom
Billy had almost run over in the snowstorm.
“Isn’t that strange!” exclaimed Mildred.
“And do you suppose the poor dumb boy is
still somewhere about here?”
“Billy says he’s camping on the island yonder,”
chuckled Dan.
“Of course, that’s just like Billy,” scoffed Lettie
Parker. “Chock full of romance.”
“All right, all right,” grumbled the younger
boy. “You folks wait. Dummy’ll turn up again
when you least expect him.”
.bn 064.png
.pn +1
And oddly enough Billy proved to be a prophet
in this event; but the others did not believe it at
the time.
The uncertainty of the wind shortened the stay
of the Speedwell iceboat on the river that day.
The boys took the girls back to the landing and
then were quite two hours in getting the Fly-up-the-Creek
to John Bromley’s.
There was some snow that night; but not
enough to clog the roads, and it all blew off the
ice. The intense cold continued and most of the
Riverdale Academy pupils spent their spare time
on the ice the following week. But Dan and Billy
Speedwell had work in another direction.
Their racing car was now four years old, for
they had bought it second hand. For short distances
there were probably a dozen cars right in
Riverdale that could best the boys’ racer.
But when it came to the longer runs, Dan and
Billy were well aware that skillful handling
counted really more than the machine itself.
There were frequent amateur road races and the
Speedwells never refused a challenge.
Now they intended to put their old car into tip-top
order, and most of the boys’ spare time that
week was devoted to this object.
They got her out on the road Monday afternoon
and despite the cold worked for three hours
between their house and the Meadville turnpike.
Dan drove her and the speedometer registered
.bn 065.png
.pn +1
what they would have considered very good time
indeed for an ordinary run. But they didn’t make
racing time——“Not by a jugful!” as Billy
grumbled.
“There’s something wrong,” admitted his
brother, seriously.
“S’pose she needs a regular overhauling?
Have we got to knock her down and overhaul
her from the chassis up?”
“I don’t know. It’s not so long ago that we
had her in on the machine shop floor, you know,
Billy, and Mr. Hardy, Biff’s father, went all over
her himself. She’s getting old, of course, and
we’ve used her a lot.”
“I—should—say—yes,” drawled the younger
boy. “Nobody’s got more out of a motor car
around Riverdale than we have out of this one.”
“But I believe she’s good for many a race,”
asserted Dan. “You see, it may be some little
thing. There might be a leak——”
“Leak? pshaw! you know the gas runs as clean
as a whistle. And what would that have to do
with her losing time?” demanded Billy.
“Wait. I mean a leak in the ignition wiring.”
“Wow!”
“Never thought of that—eh?” demanded
Dan.
“No. And I’m not thinking much of it now,
Dannie—you old fuss.”
.bn 066.png
.pn +1
“Don’t you be too fresh calling me names,
sonny,” advised the older youth. “You want to
remember that the wiring of this car is old. A
tiny break in the insulation would be enough to
spell ‘trouble.’ Get me, Billy?”
“Uh-huh! But I don’t see——”
“Let’s try it. That’s the only thing to do to
make sure.”
“How are you going to do it?” demanded
Billy, anxiously.
“Watch me,” returned his brother, with assurance,
and he immediately went to work to test
the insulation.
Billy was sure he was “some punkins” (as he
often remarked) when it came to mechanics; but
he knew Dan had him “beaten to a mile” when
once the elder boy put his mind to a mechanical
problem. So he watched Dan narrowly.
To find a leak in the ignition wiring of a machine
is no joke; the break may be of the tiniest
and in a remote location, too. But Dan had a
practical idea about it and he started right.
First he disconnected the conductors, one at a
time, replacing them with temporary connections
made with an ample length of free wire, laid outside
the motor parts.
It did not take long to do this, and this method
of “bridging” the conductors without dismantling
the connections brought about just what Dan
.bn 067.png
.pn +1
wished. There were two tiny leaks and in an
hour Dan had corrected the faults and put everything
in shape again.
“Now, we’ll give her another spin,” he grunted.
“If I’m not mistaken, Billy, she will act like
a different car.”
“Come on. You’ve got to show me,” returned
the other. “Doesn’t seem as though those two
little cracks in the insulation could put her in so
bad.”
They got the car out on the hard road. There
was still an hour before sunset and they could
go far in an hour.
And how the old car spun along! Billy was
delighted and Dan grinned happily. “You sure
hit the trouble, old boy!” declared the younger
brother. “You are one smart kid——”
Dan punched him good-naturedly in the ribs,
and said:
“Be respectful—be respectful, sonny. Remember
I’m older than you.”
“That doesn’t worry me much,” returned Billy.
And then suddenly he jumped up, demanding:
“D’ye see that, Dan? Look!”
They had been going pretty fast, but Dan shut
off the power at once. Far ahead of them on the
road a red touring car was approaching—a brilliant
patch of color against the background of
saffron sky.
.bn 068.png
.pn +1
If the color scheme had caught their eye, so
much more did it catch the eye of Farmer Bulger’s
black bull, that had just broken out of
bounds and entered the highway from the barnyard
lane.
Instantly the beast saw the red car coming and
it bellowed a challenge, pawing the frozen ground
and shaking his horns threateningly. His back
was to the Speedwells’ gray car, and he paid that
no attention; the boys saw that the brilliantly
painted touring car was filled with girls.
“It’s Burton Poole’s new car!” gasped Billy.
“And Mildred and Lettie are in it!” added
Dan, quite as excited as his brother.
“Crickey! why doesn’t that Poole know enough
to back out. That bull is an ugly fellow.”
“It isn’t Burton at the wheel,” growled Dan,
suddenly. “It’s Barry Spink——By George!”
There were other girls in the car besides the
doctor’s daughter and Lettie. They were all
screaming as the red car dashed toward the great
beast that barred the way. At last Spink stopped;
but then it was too late to turn the car and escape.
With a vicious bellow the bull charged and
struck the radiator of the car a solid blow, breaking
it. He bounded back from the collision and
shook his head from side to side; but he showed
every intention of making a second charge and
this time he might clamber into the car itself!
.bn 069.png
.pn +1
.pm chap VIII "THE PLANS"
“Lemme get out and find a club, Dan!” begged
Billy, as the gray car continued to approach the
red one at a swift pace.
“What could you do with a club?” demanded
the older lad.
“I’d bust it over that beast’s head!” declared
his brother, excitedly. “Stop the car!”
The occupants of the red car had all crouched
down in the bottom, hoping the bull would not
see them. They might have been ostriches hiding
their heads from pursuit in the desert sand.
The beast charged again, and this time he
smashed the windshield and got his forehoofs into
the front of the car. Barry Spink vaulted over
the back of the seat and left Lettie Parker (who
had sat with him) to her fate.
“We’re coming, Let!” roared Billy, standing
up and fairly dancing in the onrushing gray racer.
The next instant the bull backed away and got
right into the path of the Speedwells’ car. Dan
had intended to run her alongside of the red
automobile and give the frightened passengers a
chance to escape.
.bn 070.png
.pn +1
But the bull got in the way. There was a
heavy thud, and Mr. Bull flopped over on his side,
bellowing in pain and surprise, while the gray car
rebounded from his carcass as though it were
made of India rubber.
“Goody-good!” shrieked Lettie Parker.
“Bump the mean old thing again, Dan! Bump
it!”
But Dan shut off the power quickly. He was
afraid the collision had done the racer no good,
as it was.
However, he had no intention of seeing the bull
do any further harm to the crowd in Burton
Poole’s car. With Billy, he ran at the beast, that
had now staggered to his feet. Dan had seized
a long-handled wrench from the tool box, and before
the bull could lower his head to charge, he
hit the tender nose a hard clip.
How the creature roared! He hated to give
up the fight and it was not until Dan had struck
another blow that the bull backed into the ditch
and cleared the road for the passage of the two
cars.
“For pity’s sake get under the wheel yourself,
Burton!” exclaimed Dan. “Get those girls out
of here.”
“I’m going to get into your car, Billy,” declared
Lettie Parker.
“And I, too!” gasped Mildred.
.bn 071.png
.pn +1
“Why, it wasn’t my fault the old bull charged
us,” whined Barrington Spink.
“You give me a pain!” growled Burton, who
was a big, rather slow-witted fellow, but sound
of heart. “You jumped over the seat and left
Let to be gored to death by that beast—as far
as you cared!”
“I—I thought she was coming, too,” gasped
Spink.
“See if you can get any action in your engine,
Burton,” advised Dan. “If that other fellow had
had any sense at all he wouldn’t have rushed right
down upon the bull in the way he did.”
“I—I didn’t suppose it would dare face the
car,” continued the explanatory Spink.
“Rats!” snapped Billy, in disgust. “The
car’s red enough to give anything the blind staggers!
No wonder that old bull went for it.”
Burton tried to turn his engine; but he couldn’t
get a bit of action out of it. Fortunately the bull
was whipped, and the Speedwells turned their
own machine about, hitched on to the red car,
and towed it back to Riverdale, unmolested.
Later in the week, after the boys had tried the
racer out to their complete satisfaction, Dan remained
up one evening long after his brother had
gone to bed. Billy fell asleep seeing Dan bent
over certain drawings he had made, and it must
have been midnight when the younger boy was
startled out of his sound sleep by a sudden sound.
.bn 072.png
.pn +1
There was Dan hopping about the room in a
grotesque, stocking-footed dance.
“What under the sun’s the matter with you,
Dan?” gasped the younger boy.
“I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” ejaculated his
brother, snapping his fingers and continuing the
dance.
“Stop it! stop it, I say!” commanded Billy.
“You’ll have mother in here. My goodness!
can’t you break out with the measles—or whatever
you’ve got—at a decent hour?”
“It’s something bigger than the measles, Billy,”
chuckled Dan, falling into his chair before the
table again. “Look here.”
“Those old plans——” began Billy, sleepily.
“These new plans, you mean,” responded his
brother, vigorously. “I tell you I’ve struck pay
dirt.”
The words stung Billy into a keener appreciation
of his brother’s excitement. Awakened from
a sound sleep, he had been rather dazed at first.
Now he knew what Dan meant.
“You—got—it?” he gasped, stifling a mighty
yawn. “Figured it all out?”
“I’m going to rig a motor-driven sprocket
wheel arrangement that will push a car over the
ice at good speed—yes, sir!”
.bn 073.png
.pn +1
“Going to hitch it to the Fly-up-the-Creek?”
demanded Billy, eagerly, bending over the papers
Dan had prepared.
“No. That’s where I was wrong. We’ll build
an entirely new iceboat. See here?” and he at
once began explaining to his brother the idea that
developed—as it seemed—almost of itself since
Billy had gone to sleep three hours before.
“It sure looks good!” exclaimed the younger
boy, admiringly, when Dan had concluded. “You
have got it, Dan! And the boys will be crazy
over it.”
“We’ll just keep it to ourselves, you know,”
warned Dan. “Mr. Robert Darringford is going
to offer a handsome prize for the fastest iceboat
at the regatta we’re going to hold. Don’t
you know that?”
“Well—er—yes.”
“Then we’ll just keep still about this scheme.
Some of the parts will have to be made in the
machine shops, you know. And some parts we’ll
get old Troutman, at Compton, to make. You
remember him?”
“Sure! the pattern maker who worked for Mr.
Asa Craig when Mr. Craig was building his submarine.”
“The same. We won’t let anybody but father
see the plans as completed. No use in letting ’em
in on the scheme.”
.bn 074.png
.pn +1
“Crickey, Dan!” exclaimed Billy. “If we
build a racer that wipes up the whole river, Barry
Spink will turn green with envy. I heard him
blowing the other day that he was going to have
some kind of a mechanical contrivance built for
his White Albatross that would make her the fastest
thing on the ice.”
“That’s all right. Maybe he’s got something
good up his sleeve,” laughed Dan. “But I believe
that we have something just a little better
here,” and he tapped the plans on the table.
.bn 075.png
.pn +1
.pm chap IX "THE BOY WHO COULDN’T TALK"
The Speedwells were busy boys these days.
The excitable Billy had so many irons in the fire
(so he said) that he could barely keep all of them
hot.
Then, there was the secret building of the new
iceboat. Dan and Billy had said little of their
scheme outside the family; but it was known in
Riverdale that the Speedwells proposed to rig a
“new-fangled” racing machine that would “just
burn up the ice” when the midwinter ice races
were held.
“What’s she going to be driven by, Billy?”
asked Biff Hardy, meeting the Speedwells one
afternoon at the edge of the Boat Club Cove.
“Steam—gas—or nitroglycerin? Pa says you’ve
brought him some patterns for things that he believes
belong to a combination aeroplane and
motor mowing machine. How about it?”
“Never you mind,” returned Billy, grinning,
for Bill Hardy, who worked in the Darringford
Machine Shops, was one of the Speedwells’
staunchest friends. “I don’t just understand all
about the plans myself. But Dan knows.”
.bn 076.png
.pn +1
“You bet he does!” rejoined the admiring Biff.
“But I’m not going to ask Dan. If it’s a secret
I know very well I couldn’t get at it even if I
hypnotized him!”
The Fly-up-the-Creek was very popular,
whether the boys built a speedier craft, or not.
If Mildred and Lettie didn’t care to accompany
Dan and Billy whenever they had time to skim
the ice in the big craft, there were plenty of their
schoolmates ready to enjoy such trips as the Speedwells
were willing to give them.
And almost always when Dan and Billy were
on the ice, the White Albatross made its appearance.
Barrington Spink was forever trying conclusions
with the bigger iceboat, and was never
willing to admit defeat by her.
It was always “by a fluke,” or because something
broke on his own craft, when Dan and
Billy chanced to leave the White Albatross behind.
There was something “bull-doggy” about
Barrington Spink. He never knew when he was
beaten.
There was by this time quite a fleet of iceboats
on the river, besides those of the Speedwell boys,
Monroe Stevens, and Spink. Fisher Greene and
his cousin had produced the Flying Squirrel. Jim
Stetson and Alf Holloway had bought a boat, too,
and named it the Curlew.
.bn 077.png
.pn +1
There were, besides, other iceboats appearing
on the Colasha, built and owned by some of the
adult members of the boat club. There were a
good many men devoted to sports in Riverdale,
and the condition of the ice this season spurred
them into joining the game.
The Oldest Inhabitant could not remember
when there had been a winter so steadily cold.
And, fortunately for the ice sports, there was
little snow during these early weeks of the season.
“There are going to be great old times on
this river before the winter’s over, Dan,” declared
Billy, confidently.
“Providing the frost continues—eh?”
“It’s bound to! Look at the almanac.”
“Humph!” returned Dan, “I’ve heard of
such a thing as an almanac being mistaken.”
“That’s all right,” said Billy, not at all shaken.
“Everybody believes this will be a great old winter.
Robert Darringford is going in for iceboating,
too. He’s having a boat built in the shops—and
he says it’s going to be a wonder.”
“Let ’em all rave,” grunted Dan. “You’ll see,
Billy. There won’t one of ’em get the speed out
of their craft that we will out of ours.”
“Where’s those plans, Dannie?” asked his
brother.
.bn 078.png
.pn +1
“Right in my pocket,” returned Dan, promptly.
“I’m not running the risk of having them picked
up somewhere and so find their way into the
hands of somebody who might catch on to our
idea.”
This was on a Saturday when Mildred and
Lettie had expressed a desire to take a long trip
in the Fly-up-the-Creek.
“We’ve never gone as far as Karnac Lake yet,”
Lettie pouted. “Always something happens before
we get there. If you don’t take us this time,
boys, we’ll go over to the enemy in a body!”
“What enemy?” demanded Billy.
“Barrington Spink. He’s always asking us to
accompany him on the White Albatross.”
“Why don’t you go with him, then?” snapped
Billy. “Nobody’s holding you.”
“Now, children!” admonished the doctor’s
daughter. “Don’t quarrel.”
Dan and Mildred only laughed over the bickerings
of the other couple. Soon the Speedwells’
boat was made ready and the girls got aboard,
while Dan and Billy pushed her out from the
landing.
There was no gale blowing, but a good, stiff
breeze—and it was fair. The huge sail of the
Fly-up-the-Creek filled almost immediately, and
they moved steadily out of the cove.
.bn 079.png
.pn +1
Outside, the White Albatross was maneuvering,
Spink evidently waiting as usual to try a brush
with the Speedwells’ craft. Barry shot the white
iceboat down toward them as they came out of
the cove, and shouted:
“Better come aboard here, girls, if you want
to reach the lake. I’m on my way!”
“Who’s going to tow you?” demanded Billy.
“I don’t need any towing,” returned Spink,
sharply. “There’s one thing sure, I can beat that
old milkwagon of yours. Better take up my offer,
girls!” he added, grinning impudently.
He did shoot away in advance at a good pace,
and Lettie cried, under her breath: “Oh! don’t
you dare to let him beat us, Dan Speedwell!”
“The race is not always to the swift,” returned
Dan, smiling.
“I really wouldn’t pay any attention to that
fellow,” said Mildred. “He is not worth noticing.
And I don’t see any reason why he should
be so mean to us.”
“Looks to me as though he wanted to cut Dan
and me out with you girls,” chuckled Billy.
“Well!” said Lettie Parker, in earnest for
once, “that might be, too. But the particular
reason why he dislikes you boys is because you
don’t ‘make much’ of him as some of the others
do. You know, Barry’s mother is rich.”
“Seems to me I’ve heard something about that
before,” said Dan, laughing.
.bn 080.png
.pn +1
“He got in bad with you boys at the start.
Billy only charged him a nickel for saving his
life—isn’t that so, Billy?” asked Lettie, with a
giggle.
“I didn’t want to overcharge the poor chap,”
returned Billy, with an answering grin.
“Well, you can’t expect him to feel very kindly
towards you, then,” said Lettie.
“He’s going to build a wonderful boat to beat
anything you boys can put on the river,” sighed
Mildred. “He’s going to win all the ice races
at the regatta Mr. Darringford is arranging. Oh!
I heard him telling all about it the other evening
at Mary Greene’s.”
“Don’t let that worry you for a little minute,”
Billy broke in, with some excitement. “Dan’s got
the plans of a boat right in his pocket now that
will knock the eye out of any craft that will be
on the ice this winter.”
“I admire your slang!” exclaimed Lettie, with
scorn.
“I bet I caught it from you,” returned Billy,
ready to “scrap” on the instant.
“Be good! be good!” cried Mildred. “Oh,
Dannie! you are overtaking that white boat.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” returned the
older boy, who had been attending strictly to
business since Spink had challenged them.
.bn 081.png
.pn +1
The Fly-up-the-Creek was making good its
name. They were rushing up the river at a terrific
pace. The White Albatross, whenever she
tacked, lost ground. And finally when they came
to the lower end of Island Number One, she had
to make a long leg towards the farther side of
the river, and so get to the leeward of the island.
Billy was staring at the island all the time they
were passing.
“What’s the matter, Billy?” demanded Lettie
Parker. “What do you expect to see over yonder?”
“Billy’s looking for Robinson Crusoe,” chuckled
Dan. “He believes there’s a fellow living
over there.”
“Oh! you told us before,” cried Lettie. “And,
do you know, I told father and he said Sheriff
Kimball ought to know about that.”
“About what?” queried Mildred.
“Not that poor dummy?” cried Billy. “There
isn’t an ounce of harm in that fellow, I am sure.”
“No. About there being something buried on
the island. I don’t know just what father meant.
But you know, he is very friendly with the sheriff.”
“Say! we don’t want to get that poor chap into
trouble,” Billy urged. “Just like a girl—telling
everything she knows!”
.bn 082.png
.pn +1
Before Miss Parker could “flare up” at this
statement and speak her mind, Mildred gave a
little shriek.
“What’s the matter?” demanded Dan, flashing
a look around, too.
“See him? There!”
“It’s Dummy!” yelled Billy, who was out on
the crossbeam at his usual station and could see
behind the bellowing sail.
There, upon a high rock on the shore of the
island stood the figure of the boy Billy and Dan
had knocked over in the snowstorm, weeks before.
They could not be mistaken.
He was gazing across the end of the island
toward the open ice on the far side. Suddenly he
turned about and waved both arms madly at the
Fly-up-the-Creek and her crew. But although he
opened his mouth and babbled something or
other, neither the boys nor their guests could
understand what he said.
“He wants something of us!” cried Lettie.
“He’s warning us!” gasped Mildred.
Dan swerved the helm and in a moment the
iceboat came up into the wind and lost headway.
They drifted past the end of the island, which
was heavily wooded. And at that moment the
White Albatross swooped around the head of
the island, aimed directly for the Speedwells’
craft.
.bn 083.png
.pn +1
“Look out!” yelled Billy, leaping up and waving
his hand.
The girls screamed, too. There was not
enough headway on the Fly-up-the-Creek for Dan
to swerve her out of the track of the other boat.
There was a crash. The bow of the White
Albatross struck the other craft a glancing blow
and the latter whirled in a complete circle. Fortunately
Dan had let go the halyards and the sail
came down with a rush. But it went over the
side, tangled in the runners, and the iceboat
stopped dead, while Barry Spink and his companion,
both grinning over their shoulders at their
rivals, shot on up the river.
“Guess you know who’ll reach Karnac first this
time!” called Spink, waving his hand.
.bn 084.png
.pn +1
.pm chap X "COASTING"
It was a mean trick, and one that might have
had serious consequences. It was certain that
Spink had seen the drifting Fly-up-the-Creek and
might have averted the collision.
“If that lad over there had been able to talk
plain,” declared Dan, helping the girls out from
under the smother of canvas, “we could have
gotten out of the way. He tried his best to tell
us what was coming.”
Mildred was crying a little, for she was frightened;
but Lettie Parker, Billy declared, sputtered
like a bottle of soda.
“What a mean, mean thing to do!” she stammered.
“I—I could box that Spink boy’s ears
myself! Stop crying, Milly—we’re not all dead
yet.”
Billy chuckled—he had to. “We’re far from
dead; but Dan looks kind of bright-eyed. I wonder
what he’d do to Barrington Spink right
now?”
.bn 085.png
.pn +1
“Come on, Mildred,” said the older Speedwell,
patting the shoulder of the doctor’s daughter.
“Don’t you mind. We’re none of us really
hurt, and neither is the boat—much.”
Billy was examining the broken cables. The
canvas, too, was badly slit where it had got under
the sharp runners.
“We don’t get to Karnac Lake to-day, I
reckon,” he said. “Guess you’d better have
taken up that fellow’s offer, girls.”
“I’ll never speak to Barrington Spink again!”
declared Lettie.
Mildred dried her eyes, and then began scrutinizing
the shore of the island. “Where is that
boy who tried to warn us?” she asked.
“Dummy? I declare! he’s skipped out,” Billy
said. “Now, Dan! what do you think? Didn’t
I tell you he was living on this island?”
“And guarding a buried treasure—eh?”
chuckled the older boy.
“I’m going to see him—and talk to him!”
declared Billy, earnestly.
“Not that he’ll be able to talk to us—eh?”
queried his brother.
“Well, he can make himself understood somehow,”
said Lettie, taking up the idea. “Come
on, Billy! let’s find him.”
Mildred looked at Dan as though she thought
he might forbid the search; but he did nothing
of the kind. “Let the young ones run their legs
off, if they want,” he said to Mildred, as Billy
and Lettie climbed the rocky shore of the island.
“I bet they don’t catch that dummy.”
.bn 086.png
.pn +1
“Why?” she asked, in wonder.
“He’s too blamed elusive,” declared Dan,
hard at work mending the cordage that had been
ripped loose by the collision.
Dan flung aside his coat to be less hampered.
Mildred held things for him, and helped as she
could until, when Billy and Lettie came back—disappointed—the
iceboat was in some sort of
shape for the start back.
“Well! where is he?” demanded Dan, flinging
his coat across the stern of the boat.
“Ask me!” growled Billy.
“What! not found?”
“There’s something blamed funny about this
island,” declared his younger brother with
emphasis.
“We didn’t find a trace of him,” announced
Lettie.
“But the smell of smoke,” corrected Billy.
“That’s so,” agreed the girl, rather mildly for
her. “We did smell wood smoke. But we didn’t
find a mark—not a footprint——”
“I should say not,” said Billy. “And the
island all rocks and frozen ground—not a smitch
of snow on it anywhere.”
.bn 087.png
.pn +1
“Funny thing,” grunted Dan. “I wouldn’t
mind seeing that dummy myself. Well! let’s get
on. Can’t take you any farther up-river, to-day,
girls.”
“Of course not!” said Lettie, tossing her head.
“It seems as though we are fated never to get
any farther up-stream on this old boat than hereabout.”
They couldn’t get back to town in the damaged
iceboat. They managed to beat their way to
John Bromley’s wharf, and then Billy ran all the
way home and brought back the motor car, in
which to transport the girls to their homes.
“That mean Barrington Spink!” exclaimed
Lettie. “He’s just gone past in his boat. We
saw him stop for some time up there by Island
Number One.”
And later the Speedwell boys had reason to
remember this statement. When they went to
bed that night Dan searched his coat pocket in
vain for the plans and specifications of the new
motor-iceboat.
“Lost them—by jolly!” gasped Billy.
“Where?”
Dan couldn’t be sure of that; but he had his
suspicions. He remembered clearly removing his
coat where they had had the accident at Island
Number One. The envelope might have fallen
from his coat pocket.
.bn 088.png
.pn +1
So anxious were the boys that they went up the
river road the next day after Sunday school, and
walked across the ice to the island. There were
no boats on the river, but they saw the marks of
their own and the White Albatross’s runners on
the ice at the head of the island.
So, too, did they find the torn envelope in
which the plans had been; but Dan’s drawings and
specifications were not in it.
Who had got the plans? Was it Spink, when
he stopped on his way down the river in the
White Albatross? Or was it the mysterious occupant
of the island whom the boys had dubbed
“Dummy”?
The question not alone puzzled Dan and Billy;
they were both troubled vastly by the loss of the
drawings. A good mechanic could easily get the
principle of Dan’s invention and—perhaps—build
a boat similar to the one the Speedwells were
constructing.
Under Billy’s earnest urging Dan agreed that
they should search the island for some trace
of the boy who could not talk; but they made
absolutely nothing out of it. Not even a smell
of smoke this time.
“That chap has the magic, all right, all right!”
grumbled Billy. “He disappears as though he
had an invisible cap.”
“More probably he’s here only once in a
while,” said Dan.
.bn 089.png
.pn +1
“How about yesterday?” demanded the
younger boy. “He wasn’t on the ice when
Lettie and I hunted for him—that’s sure. He’s
got a hide-out here, and don’t you forget it.”
“Maybe he buries himself—along with the
treasure—when he is pursued by curious folk,”
chuckled Dan.
But it was really no laughing matter. Dan
was as glum as Billy when they returned home
that Sunday evening. The plans were gone—and
with them, perhaps, the chance the Speedwells
had of building a faster boat than anybody who
would enter for the iceboat races.
Not that Dan was unable to redraw the plans.
That was easy. But the brothers feared that whoever
found the original plans would make use of
Dan’s invention in the line of motor-propulsion
for ice craft.
This was really a very novel arrangement, and
might be worth some money if once the boys made
a practical test of the idea on the river, and demonstrated
its worth. Mr. Robert Darringford,
the young proprietor of the machine shops, was
always on the lookout for worthy inventions; he
was the Speedwell boys’ very good friend. Dan
had rather hoped to interest Mr. Darringford in
the invention.
Of course, he did not want to show the plans
to the machine shop proprietor until after the
races on the ice, for Mr. Darringford was going
.bn 090.png
.pn +1
to enter an iceboat of special design himself. But
Robert Darringford was a trustworthy man, and
the boys were greatly tempted to tell him about
the loss of the plans.
However much disturbed they were by this
loss, there were other matters which kept the
boys busy and their minds alert during the next
few days. The Speedwells were more than ordinarily
good scholars, and stood well in their
classes. Even “Doc Bugs,” as one of their chief
instructors was called by the more irreverent
youth of Riverdale, seldom had to set down black
marks against Dan or Billy.
Billy’s superabundance of energy and love of
fun was well exercised out of school hours; he
stuck pretty well to his books in the classroom.
There was another snowfall which rather
spoiled the skating for a few days; but did not
halt the trials of the several iceboats on the river.
The snow brought to the fore another sport that
had always been popular in Riverdale—and is
worthy of being popular in every section of our
country where winter holds sway for any length
of time.
“Coasting to-night on Shooter’s Hill!” yelled
Money Stevens, seeing the Speedwell boys making
for their electric truck, which they had left behind
Appleyard’s store, as usual. “Bring down the
‘bob,’ boys. We’ll have a jim-hickey of a time.”
.bn 091.png
.pn +1
“Whatever that may, be—eh?” chuckled Dan.
“Girls allowed?” asked Billy.
“Sure!” said Money. “Wouldn’t be any fun
bobsledding if it wasn’t for the girls. They
usually supply three things: The lunch, unnecessary
conversation, and plenty of squeals,” and he
went his way to stir up other of the young folk
of Riverdale.
That he—and others—were successful in gathering
a throng at the top of Shooter’s Hill by
eight o’clock that evening, was a self-evident fact.
Dan and Billy hitched old Bob and Betty to the
pung and drove into town for Mildred and Lettie.
But for once the Speedwell boys were disappointed
in their plans. They had not thought to
call up either the doctor’s daughter, or the town
clerk’s lively daughter. Dan and Billy took too
much for granted.
When they reached the doctor’s house, they
were told Mildred had gone to spend the evening
with Lettie; and when they pulled up with a flourish
at the latter’s domicile their hail brought nobody
but a maid to the door.
“The girls ban gone off to Chooter’s for sledding,”
explained the Swedish serving maid, grinning
broadly at the disappointed boys.
“Goodness, Dan!” exclaimed Billy. “We’re
stung. What do you know about this?”
.bn 092.png
.pn +1
Dan was a bit grumpy himself. Yet he couldn’t
blame Mildred. She, of course, had no idea the
Speedwells, who lived so far out of town, knew
anything about the plans for the evening.
“Hey, Selma!” yelled Billy, before the door
closed. “Who’d they go with?”
“Das gone mit Mr. Greene and Mr. Spink,”
replied the girl.
“Stung twice!” grunted Billy. “That blamed
Barrington Spink is getting under my skin, Dan.
He’s forever putting his oar in where it isn’t
wanted. Just as sure as you live, boy, he and I
are going to lock horns yet.”
“You keep out of scraps, Billy,” advised his
brother, as he turned the horses.
“Take care of the bob!” cried Billy, suddenly.
Their bobsled was tailing on behind the pung
and Billy didn’t want to see it smashed. “Shall
we keep on to the hill?” asked Dan.
“Bet you! We’ll show Let Parker that she’s
made a mistake by going with the Spink kid. No
matter what he’s got to slide on—even if it goes
by steam—I bet we can beat him.”
“That’s putting it pretty strong, Billy,” laughed
Dan. “Do you think you can fulfill the contract?”
.bn 093.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XI "A HAIR’S BREADTH FROM DEATH"
The horses faced the wind as they struck into
the Long Bridge road, and shook their heads impatiently
till the bells on the harness rang again.
Billy crouched a little behind Dan’s bulkier
shoulder, for Dan was driving.
“Whew! some breeze this,” said the younger
boy, who could not keep silent for long.
“At our backs, if we coast down Shooter’s,”
said Dan.
“That’s so. But we’ll have to face it going
up—and dragging the girls, too.”
“Good thing we haven’t any girls to-night,
then, Billy,” said his brother.
“Huh!” grunted Billy, who was not yet in a
forgiving spirit. “I hope that Barry Spink
makes Lettie walk up hill every time. He looks
like that sort of a fellow to me.”
“If they have iced the course,” Dan was saying,
reflectively, “and with the wind blowing
right down the hill, there will be some great sledding
this night. Why! if we lay down a couple
of lengths of the roadside fence at the bottom of
the hill, we ought to be able to cross the flat and
slide right out on the river!”
.bn 094.png
.pn +1
“Some slide!” exclaimed Billy, with enthusiasm.
“The river’s two and a half miles broad there,”
said Dan, still speaking thoughtfully.
“And Shooter’s Hill is another two miles from
foot to summit—that’s sure,” added Billy. “Some
slide!” he added, repeating his exclamatory comment
with gusto. “But do you think there’d be
momentum enough to carry a sled across the river
to this side?”
“No; I don’t,” admitted Dan. “But——”
“But what, old boy? What’s working on
you?” demanded Billy, eagerly, beginning to see
that Dan’s remarks pointed to some tangible
idea.
“Let’s drive around by the house first,” said
Dan, quickly, turning Bob and Betty into a side
road.
The horses accelerated their pace at once, for
they thought their stalls were just ahead of
them.
Dan tossed the reins to Billy when they drove
into the yard, and bolted into the house at once
without saying another word. He was gone some
few minutes, and Billy saw a lamp shining through
a garret window before his brother appeared
again.
.bn 095.png
.pn +1
When Dan did come out he bore an object that
filled Billy first with amazement and then with
delight.
“For goodness’ sake! what’s that for?” the
younger boy demanded. “That old kite? Sure!
you can put it up all right in a wind like this.
But who wants to fly a kite on a moonlight night,
when there’s bobsledding in prospect——”
“Great Peter, Dan! I get you! I see! Say,
boy! you’ve got the greatest head ever,” declared
the slangy and enthusiastic Billy. “Lay it down
in back there so the wind won’t get it. And plenty
of cord?”
“Here’s line that would hold a whale,”
chuckled Dan, climbing back to the seat. “What
do you think? Will we show those fellows something?”
“We’ll show Let Parker that she made a mistake,”
growled Billy, going suddenly back to his
bone of contention with the town clerk’s lively
daughter.
The horses were off again in a moment, and it
was not long before they came in sight of the
Long Bridge and the glistening, snow-covered
slope rising from the far bank of the river, and
just beyond the bridge.
Dan and Billy could see their school friends and
companions scattered over the coasting course on
their bobsleds. There were smaller sleds, too;
.bn 096.png
.pn +1
but several big “double-runners” carried parties
of shouting young folk down the two-mile slope
and almost to the entrance to the bridge.
They did not mind the sharp wind—excepting
while dragging the sleds to the top of the hill.
But even that task was accomplished amid laughter
and merriment.
The Speedwell boys drove across the bridge and
put their horses under the shed of a farmer who
lived on the bank of the river. They lifted out
the huge kite carefully and with it, and their bob,
hurried to join the crowd just then starting up
the hill for another trip.
“What under the sun you got there, Dan?”
demanded Money Stevens. He couldn’t approach
to examine the kite, for he was dragging one of
the sleds himself and there were already three
girls upon it.
“Oh! we’re going to show you fellows a new
trick,” said Billy, proudly. “You wait and
see.”
Billy was looking for Lettie Parker, and he saw
her now on a brand-new bobsled which was being
drawn by Barry Spink and the biggest Greene boy.
Mildred was with her.
“Hullo, Billy Speedwell!” shouted Miss Parker.
“I didn’t know you boys were coming over
here.”
.bn 097.png
.pn +1
“Well, I hope you see us, Let,” said Billy,
with an air of carelessness. “We’re right here—and
we’ll come pretty near leaving that bob you’re
on ’way behind.”
“Just about the way your old Fly-up-the-Creek
leaves my iceboat behind,” scoffed Barry Spink.
“I believe you milkmen are a couple of blow-hards!”
But Billy only laughed and he and Dan hastened
their steps along the snowy road. Where
the hill dipped to the level of the flats the Speedwells
stopped and threw down two lengths of the
fence. This opened a course to, and down, the
easily sloping bank of the river.
“Aw, say!” cried Biff Hardy, who was with
another bob; “that won’t make you anything.
We can’t get momentum enough to clear that little
rise between here and the river.”
“Hold your horses, Biff!” advised Dan.
“Let’s see what we can do.”
“And with a kite!” scoffed one of the other
fellows. “What do you think you’re going to
do?”
But Dan would not be led into any discussion,
while Billy was not just sure what his brother
was intending. Once on the top of the hill Dan
showed Billy what to do, in a hurry. They
waited for the other sleds to go, so as to have a
clear field. Then Billy raised the kite, Dan holding
the stout line attached to it.
.bn 098.png
.pn +1
The stiff wind blowing from behind them,
seized the big kite almost at once. She rose with
a bound, Dan letting the line whistle through his
gloved hands. She made one swoop when a flaw
struck her, and then mounted again and the wind
caught her full and square.
There she soared, steady and true, and the
Speedwells hastily boarded their heavy sled. Dan
fastened the line to a ring in front of the tiller
with which he steered the sled. Billy, hanging on
behind, started the sled over the brow of the hill
by striking his heel sharply into the hard-packed
snow.
The runners squeaked a little, and then the sled
plunged downward. Had the wind been lighter,
the momentum the sled gathered on the first half-mile
of the hill would have forced the coasting
Speedwells ahead of the kite.
But the gale was strong and steady. Away the
great kite flew, with the line taut most of the way
to the bottom of the hill.
“She ain’t helping us a bit,” objected Billy,
shouting into Dan’s ear. “Those other sleds
went just as fast.”
“Wait,” commanded Dan, untroubled as yet.
The sled whizzed down to the bottom of the
hill and then Dan steered out of the beaten track.
The crowd watched the Speedwells in wonder.
The sled went slower and slower, passing through
the break in the roadside fence and over the drifts
toward the river.
.bn 099.png
.pn +1
But the great kite was tugging now. It drew
the sled on, over the short rise, and then they
pitched down the bank and out upon the river!
They gained speed again and quickly left the
cheering crowd behind, never stopping until they
reached the other bank of the river.
“What do you know about this?” yelled the
delighted Billy. “We got ’em going this time,
I guess.”
The kite fluttered over the trees on the bank
and the boys were able to bring it to earth quickly,
and without damaging the kite. It was covered
with strong, oiled paper, and was not easily torn.
But it was a job to drag the sled all the way
back again, and the kite, too. The other young
folk had made a couple of trips on the shorter
route before the Speedwells returned to the top
of Shooter’s Hill.
Nevertheless, Lettie Parker and Mildred Kent
were waiting for them. Lettie had insisted upon
leaving Messrs. Spink and Greene in the lurch.
She was determined to “go sailing” with the
Speedwell boys.
“Do you think it is dangerous, Dan?” asked
Mildred.
.bn 100.png
.pn +1
“Of course it isn’t,” declared Lettie, before
Dan could answer. “I’m not afraid to do anything
that Billy Speedwell does.”
“If you really want to try it, Milly,” Dan said,
“we’ll take you girls for one trip.”
“You’ll break all your necks fooling with that
kite,” growled Barry Spink.
He and his partner took some other girls on
their bob and started at once for the bottom of
the hill. They switched out of the beaten track
and went through the break in the fence; but the
momentum gathered by the bob would not take
it over the little hill.
The Speedwells did not notice that Barry left
the rest of the party there and went over the hill
himself. He was back in a moment, and just
then Billy got the kite into the air, and it began
to tug at the Speedwells’ bobsled.
“All aboard!” yelled Billy, and ran to take
his place behind the girls.
Down the track they rushed and out across the
flat. The kite tugged bravely and carried them
over the rise. And just as they went over this
little hill Dan uttered a cry of alarm. Right
across their track, on the steep bank of the river,
lay a great tree-branch that had not been there
when the boys made their first trip behind the kite!
.bn 101.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XII "THE “FOLLOW ME”"
The danger of a smash and overturn was imminent.
The heavy bobsled was plunging toward
the obstruction, and there was neither time nor
space to steer clear of the branch.
The girls, breathless from the swift ride, could
scarcely scream; and Billy was himself speechless.
But Dan did not lose his head.
In a trice he whipped out his claspknife,
sprung open the blade, and just before the collision
occurred he cut the kite-string.
The huge kite turned a somersault in the air,
and then plunged to the ice. But the boys and
girls on the bobsled did not notice that.
The sled smashed into the tree-branch—and
stuck. Dan went over on his head, but arose unhurt.
The others had managed to cling to the
sled.
“I know who did this!” yelled Billy, when he
got his breath. “It was that Spink fellow.”
“Oh! he wouldn’t do such a thing,” said Mildred,
timidly. “It—it must have fallen here.”
“Not much,” declared Billy.
.bn 102.png
.pn +1
When they dragged the bobsled back to the rest
of the crowd, Spink had already gone home. As
Dan said, smiling, there was no chance for a row
then; and before Billy met Barry Spink again, he
had got quieted down and, on Dan’s advice, did
not accuse the fellow of the mean trick.
The kite was smashed all to pieces. Dan decided
that that method of coasting was perilous,
after all.
Besides, there was other work and other plans
to take up the Speedwell boys’ attention; already
Dan and Billy were giving their minds to the new
iceboat, which they believed would prove a very
swift craft indeed.
The regatta committee, headed by Mr. Darringford
and made up of influential sportsmen
of Riverdale and vicinity, had set the date for
the iceboat races in that week between Christmas
and New Year’s, when business is slack. It was
holiday week at the academy, too, and the Darringford
Machine Shop hands had a few days
off.
Seldom had any public sports “taken hold” on
the people of Riverdale like this iceboat sailing.
“It’s the greatest stunt ever,” Biff Hardy declared,
“and if the cold weather keeps up all the
grandfathers and grandmothers in town—as well
as the rest of us—will be out cavorting on the
ice.”
.bn 103.png
.pn +1
There were some spills and a few minor accidents.
But with the ice in the condition it was,
there was little peril of accidents on the Colasha
save through absolute carelessness.
Dan and Billy were busy these days racing
in the Fly-up-the-Creek. Nobody but the
family knew it; but most of the parts of the
wonderful new boat Dan had invented, were finished.
The engine had been set up and tried on
the barn floor. Then the boys went over to
Compton and got the parts Mr. Troutman had
made for them, and with the parts Mr. Speedwell
had helped them build, and certain others
from the Darringford shops, the brothers
secretly removed them all to John Bromley’s dock,
and assembled them in an old fish-cleaning shed.
The boys were very secret about it. Ever since
the first plans Dan had drawn disappeared so
mysteriously at Island Number One, the brothers
had been worried for fear somebody had found
and would make use of them.
The principle upon which the motor-auxiliary
worked was novel and Dan was confident that by
the aid of the rapidly-driven wheel that would
grip the ice under the boat amidships, and her
spread of canvas, the new craft would beat anything
in the line of an iceboat ever seen on the
Colasha.
.bn 104.png
.pn +1
Mr. Darringford joked with the boys a good
deal about the invention. He had examined the
parts they had had built at the shops with much
curiosity, and threatened to steal their ideas. But
Dan and Billy knew they could trust him to the
limit. It had been through Mr. Darringford that
the Speedwell boys had obtained their real start
in the racing game with their Flying Feathers—the
motorcycles which were the particular output
of the machine shops.
Nobody, Dan was sure, would guess the combination
he had invented without seeing all the
parts assembled. Only their father was in their
confidence in the building of the boat.
Therefore, if any craft appeared like theirs at
the regatta they could be sure that the lost plans
had been made use of.
“And if anybody’s guilty,” declared Billy
Speedwell, “it’s Barry Spink. He is crowing to
the other fellows that he’s got us beaten already,
and he won’t let anybody look into that shed behind
his mother’s barn where the boat is being
built.”
“If he’s doing it all himself, I’m not afraid,”
chuckled Dan. “Not if he had our plans fifty
times over.”
“But he isn’t. There is a foreigner working
there—I’ve seen him. He is a mechanic Mrs.
Spink hired in the city, Wiley Moyle says, and
they’re paying him eight dollars a day.”
.bn 105.png
.pn +1
“Ow! that hurts!”
“I believe it’s true, just the same,” said Billy.
“Spink has got his heart set on beating us.”
“If that’s the price he’s paying for it, he really
ought to win,” returned the older lad. “Eight
dollars a day—gee!”
The Speedwell family—down to little Adolph—were
vastly interested in the new boat. Finally,
when it came time to put it together, the question
of naming the craft came to the fore.
Naming the Fly-up-the-Creek had been something
of an inspiration; but now they all wanted
a hand in the christening of Dan’s new invention.
The matter was so hotly discussed that Mrs.
Speedwell suggested finally drawing lots for the
name.
One evening as they sat around the reading
lamp each member of the family wrote his or her
choice on a slip of paper (’Dolph printed his in
big, up-and-down letters) and then the papers
were shaken up in a bowl.
’Dolph was blindfolded and with great gravity
drew a slip. It was Carrie’s choice, and the paper
read “Follow Me”—and thus the motor-iceboat
was christened.
.bn 106.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XIII "THE STRANGER"
It was both a cold and windy day on which
Dan and Billy finally got the motor-iceboat down
upon the ice. It was in Christmas week.
“I reckon that old blizzard you were telling
about is pretty near due, Dannie,” quoth the
younger boy, blowing his fingers to get some semblance
of warmth into them, for the boys and old
Bromley had to work without gloves part of the
time.
“There’s a storm brewin’,” declared the old
boatman, cocking his eye toward the streaky looking
clouds that had been gathering ever since daybreak.
“You can lay to that! And it wouldn’t
surprise me if it brought a big snow, boys. Ye
know we ain’t re’lly had our share of snow this
winter so fur. We’ve had ice enough, the goodness
knows!”
“You bet,” agreed Billy, with a chuckle. “And
ice gathers some fast, too—if you take it from
Money Stevens.”
.bn 107.png
.pn +1
“What’s happened to him now?” asked Dan.
“Why, Money went fishing up Karnac Lake
way last Saturday—didn’t you hear? Says he
would have had great luck, if only he could have
kept the hole open through which he was fishing.
He swears he hooked a pickerel so big that he
couldn’t get it through the hole he’d cut in the
ice!”
“That sure must have been some pickerel,”
chuckled Dan. “Now, John, what do you think
of this craft?”
“By gravy! I don’t know what to think of it,
boy,” grunted the old boatman. “It ain’t like
nothin’ in the heavens, or on the airth, nor ag’in
in the waters under the airth! If you say that
dinky little ingine is goin’ to make her go, why I
reckon go she will! But seein’s believin’.”
“Right-O!” agreed Dan, smiling. “And we
will proceed to put the matter to the test right
now before we step the mast. Get aboard.”
But Old John wouldn’t do that. He preferred
to watch the proceedings from the dock—and he
said so.
“I ain’t got so many more years ter live no
way ye kin fix it,” he said, grinning. “Lemme
live ’em whole. I wouldn’t venter on one o’ them
sailin’ iceboats, let erlone this contraption.”
.bn 108.png
.pn +1
Dan and Billy pushed out from the shore and
started the engine. Dan could easily manipulate
the power as well as steer the Follow Me. Billy
was passenger only on this trial trip.
There was a stiff breeze blowing and they
headed directly into it. The moment the wheel
under the boat gripped the ice she began to drive
ahead. As Dan gradually increased its revolutions
they moved faster and faster, while the
whine of the engine and the sharp strokes
of the wheel-points joined in an ever-increasing
roar.
Behind them the ice showed a plain trail of
punctures from the wheel-points. The Follow Me
left a trail that might easily be followed anywhere
on the ice.
But its speed was not great at first. Dan increased
it slowly and, when she rounded to and
headed back toward the landing, Billy was flatly
disappointed.
“Crickey! this isn’t going to do much, Dan.
Why, the old boat can beat her.”
“What did you expect?” asked his brother,
smiling.
“But, old man! we’re going to race with this
thing!”
“Of course.”
“And the Fly-up-the-Creek can beat her out—easy.”
“Sure of that; are you?”
.bn 109.png
.pn +1
“What you got up your sleeve, Dannie?” the
other demanded. “Did you get all the speed out
of her you could?”
“You saw that she was wide open,” chuckled
Dan. “But you forget that we had no sail set.
Let’s get the mast up and the sail bent on. Then
we’ll give her a fair trial.”
Billy shook his head, however. He had believed
that his brother’s invention was going to
prove as fast as a power-launch, without any
canvas.
The mast and sail were both ready. They had
the new boat rigged in an hour. There was still
a full hour before sunset and again Dan took
his place in the stern while Billy raised the sail.
The canvas of the Follow Me was not as heavy
as that of the Speedwells’ first iceboat. They had
made some short runs in the Fly-up-the-Creek that
had equalled fifty miles an hour—and more.
Billy’s heart had fallen pretty nearly to his boots.
He did not believe the Follow Me could do anything
like that.
But Dan only grinned at him. The wind filled
the sail almost immediately and the motor-iceboat
staggered away from Bromley’s dock. The old
boatman stood there and watched them with a
grim face, for the new craft started very slowly.
She seemed really to hobble at first.
.bn 110.png
.pn +1
“Them boys air going to be disappointed—by
jings!” muttered Bromley. “And that’s too bad.
But these yere new-fangled notions——”
“By gravey! what’s happened?”
Suddenly the “put, put, put!” of the engine
reached his ears. And at the same time the sail
filled and bellied full. The motor-iceboat leaped
ahead, the exhaust became a rumble, and the Follow
Me shot up the river faster—it seemed to
Bromley—than he had ever seen any craft move
before.
She crossed the frozen stream diagonally and
in two minutes was out of sight behind the humpback
of Island Number One! Her disappearance
left the old man breathless.
“Some boat—that,” said a voice behind him.
“Heh?” exclaimed John Bromley, turning to
see a strange man standing coolly on his private
wharf.
“That’s a fine sailer,” said the stranger.
“Mebbe ’tis,” returned John, eyeing the man
fixedly.
The latter was a keen-looking chap, lean and
wiry, and dressed in a long, loose, gray ulster,
buckled about his waist with a belt. He returned
the old boatman’s look, after a moment, with
interest.
“You know those chaps who are running that
boat?” asked the stranger.
.bn 111.png
.pn +1
“I reckon I know the Speedwells pretty well,”
grunted John.
“Speedwell—eh? Is that their name?”
“Yes, it is.”
“What business have they got over on that
island?”
“What business have you got asking me?”
returned the old man, freezingly.
“I want to know.”
“Keep wanting. Everything comes ter them
that waits, they tell me.”
“You are of a sour temper, I see,” observed
the stranger, eyeing Bromley quite calmly.
“Mebbe. But my temper is none of your business.
Something else is.”
“What’s that, old timer?” asked the thin man,
grinning slightly.
“You’re on a piece of the earth I own. Get
off it,” said John Bromley, advancing truculently.
“This dock is mine—and I own to the road. You
git back to the road and stay there.”
The man eyed him for a few seconds, as though
to see whether he really meant the command, or
not. It was quite plain that Bromley meant it.
He was beginning to roll up his sleeves, and old
as he was he looked to be a bad man to tackle.
“Oh! very well,” said the stranger, backing
off. “No offense meant.”
.bn 112.png
.pn +1
“And that’s lucky, too,” growled John. “For
if you was meanin’ offense I might come out into
the road to you, at that!”
The stranger said no more, but gradually
“oozed off the scenery,” as Bromley told the boys
afterward. “But that feller’s got some reason
for nosin’ around here,” the old boatman added,
as he helped fasten the motor iceboat to the spiles
of the dock. “I didn’t like his looks—not a
little bit.”
“Do you suppose it is somebody trying to see
what kind of an invention you have here, Dannie?”
asked the awed Billy.
For the second trip of the motor iceboat had
convinced the younger Speedwell lad that his
brother was a marvel. He wasn’t talking much
about that trip, but if John Bromley had considered
the speed of the Follow Me quite surprising,
how much more impressed was Billy—and
even Dan himself.
It was true they had had a favoring breeze—and
a stiff breeze, too. The wind would have
driven the boat at high speed, alone. But with
the auxiliary motor at work the Follow Me had
traveled at a breath-taking pace. She had gone
the length of Island Number One, and the island
beyond it, rounded the farther end of that second
island, and come rushing back down the river to
John Bromley’s dock in an almost unbelievably
short time.
.bn 113.png
.pn +1
“It doesn’t matter who the fellow was,” said
Dan, finally; “you know we don’t want anybody
examining this boat. John understands that; don’t
you, John?”
“I’ll keep me eye on her,” growled the boatman.
“They’ve got to be wide awake to beat old
John. You leave it to me.”
But both boys felt some worriment of mind as
they scurried around that evening in the motor
truck, picking up the cans of milk from the dairies.
If it had begun to snow they might have felt
better about it. With a storm under way it would
not be likely that anybody would seek out the
Follow Me at John Bromley’s lonely dock, for
any purpose.
The Speedwell boys got back to the house, however,
finished the chores for that night, and went
in to supper before a single flake of the promised
storm had fallen.
.bn 114.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XIV "GATHERING TROUBLE"
The telephone tinkled in the kitchen just after
Dan had pulled off his boots. He and Billy were
the last to go to bed on this evening, for it was
so cold that they had gone out to the milk room
to blanket all the bottled milk for fear the bottles
would freeze and burst their caps.
Billy, still having his boots on, went down the
back stairway and Dan heard him speaking into
the instrument. It was several moments before
the older boy realized that Billy was growing
excited.
And no wonder! Billy was listening to something
over the ’phone that quite amazed him. In
the first place he was surprised to hear old John
Bromley’s voice.
Bromley seldom if ever called them up, although
the boys had paid for having him put on
the party wire. It was handy for them to be in
communication with Old John, summer and winter.
“You and Dan had better come down here,”
said the boatman, his voice very low. “There’s
something——”
.bn 115.png
.pn +1
It died out there and Billy asked him to repeat
it. Old John seemed to keep right on whispering:
“I’ve chased ’em off, but they come back.”
“Who has come back? What d’ye mean?”
gasped Billy.
“And so you better come. Don’t want ’em ... hear
me talkin’——”
“What under the sun are you getting at,
John?” exclaimed Billy. “Let’s have the details.”
Bromley’s voice on the wire was strong for a
moment. “Now, you wait——”
And that was all—every last word Billy heard!
He rattled the hook, and shouted into the mouthpiece,
and tried to call Central. He got her after
a while and demanded that Bromley be called
again.
“Doesn’t answer!” snapped the girl, after a
fruitless minute.
Dan, hearing Billy’s voice rising to crescendo,
pulled on his boots again and ran down to the
kitchen. “You’ll wake the whole house up,” he
exclaimed, admonishingly.
“Well, what do you know about this?” Billy
demanded.
“About what?”
“Something has happened down to Old
John’s——”
.bn 116.png
.pn +1
He turned and made frantic efforts to get Central
again. She said finally: “Don’t answer. I
think he’s got the receiver off the hook.”
Billy, at this, repeated as near as he could remember
the broken sentences he had heard over
the wire.
“Sure it was Bromley?” asked Dan.
“I hope I know his voice, even when he whispers,”
replied Billy, with scorn.
“We’d better go down there,” said Dan,
slowly. “John is old; something might have happened.”
“I reckon something has happened, all right,
all right!” growled Billy, beginning to struggle
into his coat.
“Wait till I speak to father. We mustn’t go
without telling him. Get out the motorcycles,
Billy.”
“Betcher!” responded his brother, unlocking
the kitchen door.
Five minutes later they were astride their machines
and were wheeling for the crossroad that
led down to Bromley’s dock. The wind cut like
a knife and it was pitch dark. Without their
headlights they would not have dared venture
along the black road. Now and then—it seemed
to Dan—a flake of snow stung his cheek. The
long-gathering storm was about due.
.bn 117.png
.pn +1
They shut off the noisy engines as they slid
down the hill to the river’s brink. The Flying
Feathers rattled a little over the ruts; but they
approached the dock rather quietly, after all.
There wasn’t a light anywhere about the premises—not
even in Old John’s little green painted
shack where he had lived alone so many years.
“Let’s go easy, Billy,” advised Dan.
They hopped off their wheels and stood them
carefully under the trees by the roadside. They
quenched the light of their lamps, too; but Dan
removed his lamp and carried it in his hand
against emergencies.
“Don’t see a soul around,” breathed Billy.
“Shall we hail the old man?”
“Not yet,” returned Dan, quite as disturbed
now as was his brother.
They were almost at the door of the cabin
when Billy suddenly clutched Dan’s arm. He
pointed toward the outer end of the dock.
“Where—where’s that other mast?” he demanded.
“What—you can’t see it in this black night,
Billy,” Dan declared.
He, too, recognized the lofty mast of the Fly-up-the-Creek.
The mast of the motor iceboat
should have stood beyond it; but——
“It’s gone!” gasped Billy, and started on the
run down the dock.
“Wait!” called Dan, softly.
.bn 118.png
.pn +1
He raised his hand to knock upon the door of
Bromley’s hut, but halted in a panic. Out on the
ice—seemingly from a great distance—sounded
the explosions of a motor exhaust!
“They’ve robbed us!” shrieked Billy, from the
end of the dock. “Look, the Follow Me is
gone!”
Dan did not wait to rap on Old John’s door.
He lifted the latch and found it unbolted. As he
stumbled into the place he fell over a body lying
on the floor. Opening his lamp, he turned the
ray upon the obstruction. It was Bromley, bound
hand and foot, and gagged, lying helpless on the
floor, but very much awake!
The old man’s eyes glared like a mad cat’s
in the dark; and when Dan jerked away the bandage
that had smothered his speech, the old boatman
“let go” some deep-sea language that—at
another time—would have quite startled the
Speedwells.
“Those sculpins jumped on me—three of ’em.
I knowed they was sneakin’ erbout, an’ I was
tryin’ ter warn ye over the ’phone. But while I
was talkin’ ter Master Billy they rushed me—broke
right inter the house here an’ grabbed me.
“Ye kin see I did some fightin’,” said Bromley,
who was now sitting down and holding his
head, on one side of which a big lump had come
into sudden being. “There’s my butter crock
smashed—I heaved it at one of the villings—I
did so!
.bn 119.png
.pn +1
“But three ter one is big odds for an old feller
like me. Ye see what they done to me? And they
went off with your new boat, Master Dan. That’s
what they was after.”
“What did they look like?” queried Dan,
sharply.
“They was masked—every one o’ them,” replied
Bromley.
“They went up the river, Dan,” said Billy,
eagerly. “Didn’t you hear the exhaust of their
engine?”
“I couldn’t place it.”
“I could,” declared Billy, earnestly. “I was
out on the end of the dock, and I marked it well.
’Twas up-stream——”
“Ye’d better telephone to the constable,” said
Old John.
“To Josiah Somes?” laughed Billy. “A fat
lot of good that would do us.”
“You ’phone to the sheriff, John,” commanded
Dan, suddenly deciding the matter. “And tell
father about it, if he asks. But Billy and I will
follow the robbers.”
“Say! them three villings was powerful mean
to me,” objected the boatman. “What they’d do
to a couple of boys——”
.bn 120.png
.pn +1
“We needn’t get into a tussle with them,” said
Dan, quickly. “We’ll just get on their trail—if
we can.”
“We can,” cried Billy, confidently, and ran out
of the cabin at once.
His brother was soon after him. They unleashed
the bigger iceboat and pushed her off from
the dock. There was a strong gale blowing, but
they had been out in some pretty keen blows with
the Fly-up-the-Creek, and knew well how to manage
her.
“Sure they went up stream?” asked Dan, as
he helped Billy raise the big sail.
“Pos-i-tive!”
“Then——We’re off! Look out for yourself,
Billy, when the boom swings over.”
Dan barely caught the stern of the craft and
scrambled in. The wind had filled the canvas suddenly,
and she shot out from the dock. He had
her in hand in a minute, however, and sent the
boom creaking over and they got upon the right
tack.
Almost at once the iceboat set a pace that made
the boys cower and cling as they could to the rocking,
wrenching timbers of the craft. The gale did
not show its fury until they were well out of the
lee of the land.
Then the boys discovered that it was snowing,
too. The few flakes that had whistled past them
while they were riding down to the dock had
.bn 121.png
.pn +1
gathered in infinite numbers now. The gale
whipped them along so speedily that they did not
seem to touch the ice at all; yet the air was soon
filled with hurrying, stinging ice particles which
blinded them.
Somewhere ahead they believed three robbers
were flying up the river in the stolen motor iceboat.
Of course, they would carry no lamps, and
it would be difficult to see the runaway until they
were right upon it.
But if they continued to use the motor Dan and
Billy knew they would soon be able to place the
Follow Me. They strained their ears to distinguish
the put-put-put of the exhaust.
.bn 122.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XV "ON ISLAND NUMBER ONE"
Dan Speedwell, naturally more thoughtful
than his brother, realized immediately that they
were up against a difficult proposition.
The storm was gathering rapidly and through
the curtain of snow it was impossible to see far.
It was true the falling flakes lightened the scene
greatly; yet they interposed a white wall that was
impenetrable a few yards beyond the bow of the
iceboat.
In which ever direction the thieves had gone
with the Follow Me, the pursuers’ only chance of
overtaking them was to follow by sound—not
sight. Therefore the thickly falling snow did not
balk the Speedwell boys much. It only would
serve to deaden the sound of the motor iceboat’s
engine.
Although the bulk of the falling snow was swept
on upon the breast of the gale, and little stuck to
the ice, the big iceboat made less noise than usual.
Her shoes did not clog; But the scale of new
snow upon the river smothered the shriek of the
.bn 123.png
.pn +1
steel. Billy, standing on the crossbeam, strained
his ears to catch the faintest sound from the motor
of the boat they were pursuing.
If the robbers continued to use the motor only,
both boys knew that the Fly-up-the-Creek would
soon overhaul the stolen craft.
For they were now tearing up the river at a
furious pace. On, on, on—the boat rocking and
bounding—often shooting into the air completely
when the runners struck a “hubbly” piece of ice—peeling
the miles off under the runner-shoes with
nerve-racking speed.
Directly they saw the gaunt outline of tree-tops
on the right hand. They were passing some
island; but which one, neither boy could have told
at the moment. The usual landmarks were wiped
out.
For what point along the upper reaches of the
Colasha were the robbers headed? That was a
disturbing query in Dan’s mind. Had the fellows
prepared some hide-out for the motor iceboat,
even before they had stolen her?
And the puzzle was: What did they want of
the Follow Me? Was the robbery merely for the
sake of keeping the Speedwell boys out of the
regatta—which was now but a week away? Or,
was the crime committed for an entirely different
reason?
.bn 124.png
.pn +1
Unless the scoundrels removed the boat from
the river it would be rather difficult to hide her
for long.
“But they can make us a whole lot of trouble—that’s
a dead certainty,” muttered Dan, striving to
clear his goggles of the wet and clinging snowflakes.
“D’ye hear anything, Dan?” yelled Billy at
that moment.
“Not a thing.”
“Crickey!” cried the younger boy. “Mebbe
those fellers have run her under the ice.”
Dan caught most of what his brother said, but
only shook his head. Billy, as he stood clinging
to the leather hand-hold, was outlined by the snow,
which made his figure bulk hugely in the uncertain
light.
Standing there, Billy should be able by now to
hear the motor’s exhaust—if ever! Unless, of
course, the thieves had put canvas on the Follow
Me, too.
Dan was trying to puzzle the thing out. If
the robbery was solely for the purpose of putting
him and his brother out of the regatta, why this
long run up the river? Suppose the three men
had merely motored over to one of the islands,
or to the far shore of the river? There they could
have hidden, or destroyed, her before this. A few
strokes of an ax would have put an end to the usefulness
of the motor and machinery on the stolen
boat—and that might have been done at Bromley’s
dock.
.bn 125.png
.pn +1
No; it looked very much to Dan as though,
had the intention merely been to keep her out of
the race, the thieves never would have taken the
Follow Me out on the river on such a blustering
night as this.
There was something else behind it. Because
he believed that somebody had gotten hold of the
plans he had drawn for the boat Dan, like Billy,
had jumped to the conclusion that this incident
was along the same line—that somebody who was
afraid of their prowess wished to keep them out
of the ice races.
His mind had suddenly shunted back to the repeated
conversation between the strange man that
afternoon on Bromley’s wharf, and Old John himself.
The man had connected him and Billy with
Island Number One. There was a mystery about
that island—and the unfortunate lad who spent
at least a portion of his time in that locality.
The connection between this present affair and
the stranger’s conversation was suddenly clinched
in Dan’s mind. The mist of uncertainty which
had bothered him was dissipated on the instant.
“Those fellows aren’t trying to do us out of
the races,” he thought. “It’s something about
Island Number One and the dummy. They never
came up the river as far as this—and that’s good
reason why we don’t hear the motor.”
.bn 126.png
.pn +1
His decision brought about instant action. He
yelled to Billy and the latter heard:
“Look out, boy! I’m going to swing her
over!”
Dan took up the sheet and for a few moments
the boat lost headway. Then the stiffened canvas
filled again and they shot away on the other tack.
Billy shouted some objections; but Dan gave
him little attention until he had swung her clear
across the river and they were headed down
stream, and on the other side of the chain of
islands.
“Don’t give it up! don’t give it up, Dan!”
begged the younger lad.
“I’m not. But I’ve got a hunch, Billy,” returned
Dan. “See where we are. What light
is that?”
“Must be the light at Benzinger’s Inn,” sang
out Billy, after a moment. “But it’s hard to tell.
Landmarks seem different when the river’s
frozen——”
“You’re right! you’re right!” cried Dan. “It’s
the Inn. I see the big oak beside it.”
“That white staff——?”
“Yes. It’s the snow makes it look so ghostly.
Now we’ll slip across nearer the islands.”
“What for?”
.bn 127.png
.pn +1
“Because we’re going to try to make Island
Number One,” declared Dan, emphatically.
There seemed to fall a lull in the gale. The
iceboat creaked over the gathering drift of snow
that had sifted down here and lay in a thick sheet
upon the ice in the lee of the islands.
And how deep it was! How fast it had gathered!
It actually amazed Dan and Billy that so
much snow had banked up here in so short a time;
for on the other side of the islands—between them
and the river bank—there were but small, thin
patches.
“There’s Island Number One!” shouted Billy,
pointing ahead.
Dan shook his head at his brother and put a
finger for a moment on his own lips in warning.
The Fly-up-the-Creek, at greatly reduced speed,
crossed the open space between the two islands.
They saw nothing of the missing Follow Me; but
in a very few minutes their own craft staggered
into a tiny cove and the runners plowed into a
two-foot drift.
Dan dropped the canvas, and it came down
stiffly and creakingly. Billy trampled it into some
sort of a bundle on the main beam of the craft.
He grumbled meantime:
“What are you doin’, Dan? We’ll never catch
those fellows—never!”
“How about if they’re here?” queried Dan.
.bn 128.png
.pn +1
“Where’s the Follow Me?”
“We’ll look,” grunted Dan, stamping his feet
and trying to slap some life into his numbed
hands.
“This is some storm, Dan.”
“It sure is.”
“Regular old blizzard—just as you said.”
Dan seized his brother’s arm suddenly, and held
it tight. “What d’ye know about that, Billy?”
he asked, pointing with his free hand into the tops
of the snow-masked trees above them.
There was a faint, rosy glow just above the
tree-tops on the high hogback of the island. This
dim, ghostly light was twenty feet above the
ground, at least, and all of forty feet above the
ice where the two boys stood.
“That—that beats me!” chattered Billy.
“What does it look like?”
“A fire in the air.”
“Isn’t that just about where you thought you
saw the smoke that other day?”
“I bet you!” gasped Billy. “A fire in the
air,” he repeated.
“No. The reflection in the air of a fire, I
grant you,” Dan chuckled.
“But—but——Say, just what d’ye mean,
Dan?”
.bn 129.png
.pn +1
“It means that there is somebody on this
island,” Dan said, gravely. “Whether it is that
poor dumb chap, or these robbers—or both!—we’ve
got to find ’em.”
“But the Follow Me isn’t here,” objected Billy,
weakly.
“How do you know?” returned his brother.
“Mean to tell me you can see all over this island—into
every cove and inlet—from where we
stand?”
“No-o——”
“Then don’t be foolish, Bill! Maybe the boat
isn’t here. But I’m going to find out what that
light means——”
“It’s gone!” exclaimed Billy.
“Yep. The fire was so fierce for a minute that
its rosy hue reflected on the smoke. We can’t
see the smoke now—the snow drives altogether
too hard.”
“Crickey, old man!” ejaculated Billy. “We’ll
be buried here if we stand much longer.”
“Then let’s keep moving. Come on!”
Dan started for the higher part of the island
at once. It was a rocky, steep ascent, and the
snow covering everything made the way more
arduous. As they panted along Billy whispered:
“D’ye suppose that dummy and the three men
that stole the boat are in cahoots, Dan?”
“Give it up,” returned Dan. “But we’ll find
out.”
.bn 130.png
.pn +1
“Maybe they’ll treat us as badly as they did
Old John—if they’re here,” suggested Billy, showing
more caution than usual.
“We’ll be careful,” said Dan, in the same low
tone. “They won’t be expecting us, I bet!”
“That’s right. They’d never look for pursuit
in this storm.”
“B-r-r-r! I guess not,” grumbled Dan. “It’s
not fit for a dog to be out in.”
“Well—if there’s a fire——”
“And there must be some shelter,” added the
older lad. “If it’s only the dummy we’ll get under
cover all right.”
“And let the Follow Me go?” groaned Billy.
“My goodness, Billy!” muttered Dan. “It’s
snowing so hard now that we could not see our
hands before our faces. Lucky we beached the
Fly-up-the-Creek as we did.”
Just then Billy fell over something. It was
a section of tree trunk. Beside it was quite a
heap of split wood, too.
“What do you know about this?” asked Dan,
helping his brother to his feet.
“Cord wood, by crickey!” exclaimed Billy.
“Sh!”
“But who’s been cutting wood over here on
this island——? Why! the dummy—if he’s the
one that’s got the fire,” muttered Billy, asking
and answering his own question.
“Correct!” agreed Dan.
.bn 131.png
.pn +1
By this time they were among the trees that
covered the backbone of the island. There was
quite a thick grove at this point.
“Step softly,” begged Dan.
“The snow will come pretty near deadening
our footsteps,” whispered Billy. “Hullo! here’s
a hollow stump.”
“What’s that?” exclaimed Dan, under his
breath. “A hollow tree?”
“Stump, I said. About twenty feet high. It
was a big tree once, you bet,” whispered Billy.
“When Lettie and I were ashore here the other
day we found it. I know it’s only a shell, for I
pounded on it.”
He lifted his fist, but Dan stopped him.
“Don’t pound on it now, you chump!” ordered
the older boy.
He put out a tentative hand himself and
touched the black tree trunk. He had already
noticed that no snow clung to it. The bark was
still on the wood and there was no mark to show
that the big stump was hollow.
But when Dan placed his bare hand upon the
bark it seemed to him as though the hollow
stump was warm!
.bn 132.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XVI "THE UNEXPECTED"
This was both a startling and unexpected discovery.
Dan gripped Billy’s arm again, enjoining
silence, and the two boys crept away from
the vicinity of the hollow stump.
The rosy glow above its summit—the smoke
rising above the tree-tops—the warmth of the
dead tree, so that the snow did not stick to it
while the rough bark of the live trees was now
crusted with the fast falling flakes—these facts
were all to be pieced together. And the dovetailing
did not take long when Dan put his mind
to it!
“It’s a smokepipe—a chimney,” he whispered.
“What is?” muttered Billy, puzzled.
“That hollow stump.”
“Crickey! where’s the fire?” demanded Billy,
in amazement.
“Under the ground—somewhere. There’s a
cave—a den in the rocks. Somehow a smoke
flue has been dug to the hollow tree——”
.bn 133.png
.pn +1
“If it was hot enough to reflect upon the snow
above the top,” objected Billy, “the old tree
would be afire.”
“Not if they had lined it with clay, and baked
the clay first,” responded Dan.
“Gee, Dan! you’ve got a head!”
“I hope so,” returned Dan, laughing.
“But could the dummy have done all
that——?”
“How do we know who is in the cavern?”
snapped Dan. “And take it from me—it was
somebody beside that dumb fellow who contrived
this hide-out. These people must be outlaws of
some kind, Billy—surest thing you know!”
“Of course they are—if they stole our boat,”
agreed Billy.
“We don’t know who they are,” said Dan,
thoughtfully. “And we don’t know how to get
into their camp, anyway. Goodness, Billy! maybe
we’ll wish we did know, even if they are pretty
tough citizens. Where are we going to find shelter
in this blizzard?”
The storm was increasing mightily. The
snow drove down through the branches with a
startled “sh-sh-sh.” This drowned even the
whining of the wind through the taller tree-tops.
The boys made little sound as they moved
about, for the snow deadened every other noise.
They stood together for some moments without
speaking.
.bn 134.png
.pn +1
To be out in such a time as this was neither
pleasant nor safe. The cold was stinging, and
one might easily freeze to death on such a night.
Even the idea of being covered up in the snow
was no comfortable thought, although they might
remain thus sheltered till morning without any
serious injury. Many times Dan and Billy had
uncovered their sheep after a serious snowstorm,
and the lads knew that a snowdrift was porous
and the heat of the body thus mantled would keep
them from freezing.
“Besides,” whispered Dan, at last, “we can
find our way down to the boat again, and cover
ourselves with a part of the sail.”
“But how about this dummy?” muttered Billy.
“Suppose he’s alone? I believe he’d give us
shelter.”
“We’ll look,” agreed Dan. “But for goodness
sake be careful.”
“How are we going about it, Dan?”
“Round and round. Take that hollow stump
for the center. We’ll circle around until we find
the entrance to his den.”
“But Lettie and I were all over this island,”
objected Billy.
“You didn’t know what you were looking for;
did you?”
“Humph! I suppose not.”
.bn 135.png
.pn +1
“Now we know,” chuckled Dan. “We’re
looking for a hole in the ground where there is
a fire. Goodness! won’t it be fine to be warm
again?”
For the boys were badly chilled by now. Billy
could scarcely keep his teeth from chattering.
>From where they stood the boys could dimly
see the black trunk of the hollow tree which Dan
believed was the chimney of the mysterious den
in the rocks.
“You go one way; I’ll go the other. Don’t
lose sight of the tree,” advised the older Speedwell.
They separated. The snow sifted down so
thickly that it was not long before they lost sight
of each other. It was no easy matter to get
about among the boulders and roughage of the
hillside. Big rocks cropped out in places; and
there were many stumps, and masses of vines and
bushes to trip them. That all these obstructions
were pretty well masked in the fallen snow made
the going all the harder.
Billy had every confidence in his brother’s
judgment; and it did seem as though Dan must
be right about the cave and the strange chimney
connected with it. Somewhere underneath where
they trod was a warm hollow, sheltering, perhaps,
only the boy whom they called “Dummy.”
If he was alone, Billy was sure he would give
Dan and himself shelter.
.bn 136.png
.pn +1
But they wanted to be sure of that. Billy
wasn’t desirous of “mixing in” with those three
masked robbers who had treated old John Bromley
so roughly.
And so thinking, as he crept on over the higher
part of the island above the hollow stump, Billy
suddenly stepped right out into space. At least,
so it seemed. He put his foot upon a bank of
snow, and “slumped right in”!
The snow had treacherously filled a narrow cut
between two boulders. Billy dropped to his
chin in the soft, cold mass, and then found that
he was wedged so tightly that he couldn’t get out.
He dared not shout to Dan. That might be
their undoing indeed. If there were men about
whom they must perforce consider enemies, Billy
was determined not to bring them out here.
So he struggled, and panted, and wrenched
himself from side to side, and tried his very best
to seize upon the edge of the rock above him and
draw his body up. All to no purpose!
He was just as much a prisoner as though
he were bound with cords. The snow was
fast drifting over him, too. Billy was already
badly chilled, and the thought of being
covered completely by the snow made him shake
all the more.
.bn 137.png
.pn +1
Indeed, he was in a bad way. He was too
courageous to yell for his brother and thus run
the risk of attracting others in the neighborhood;
but it did seem to Billy as though he were doomed
to be smothered, standing erect between the two
rocks.
Above the imperilled boy the snow whirled in
ghostly forms. Like shrouded figures of lost
spirits the snow drifted through the open grove,
passing the frightened lad in a dreary procession.
The “sh-sh-sh” of the falling flakes
seemed now like an actual voice.
There came a white figure more certain in its
outlines than the others. Billy struggled to raise
himself again, his lips parted, tempted to shriek.
The figure came nearer.
“Goodness gracious! what’s the matter with
you?” gasped Dan’s anxious voice. “I’ve been
hunting for you everywhere.”
“Crickey! is that you, Dannie?” returned
Billy. “I thought I was done for.”
“Why didn’t you yell?” demanded Dan, laying
hold of his brother’s wrists.
“And start something, maybe?”
“Well! you plucky young duffer,” exclaimed
Dan, in some pride. “Now! out you come!”
Billy lay panting at his feet for some moments.
Dan examined the hole into which his brother
had fallen.
“Don’t suppose that’s a way into the den, do
you?”
.bn 138.png
.pn +1
“So—solid under my feet, Dan,” gasped Billy.
“That’s no entrance, I bet.”
“Come on, then. We’ll keep together this
time. Haven’t found a sign of the way in yet.”
They took a wider circle about the hollow
stump. Stumbling on, arm in arm (for Billy was
getting exhausted, although he would not own
up to it), the Speedwells made another complete
round without discovering anything.
The way was so rough that it was impossible
to recall just where the hollow stump stood. The
boys had reached the bottom of the hill and the
shore of the island was near at hand. But in that
direction they could see but a short distance. The
snow was like a thick curtain before their eyes.
“Crickey, Dan!” groaned Billy. “We’ve
lost it.”
“Oh, I guess the old stump hasn’t moved,”
said Dan, cheerfully. “It’s up yonder—somewhere!”
At that moment they again caught sight of the
rosy glow in the tree-tops. “See!” exclaimed
Dan. “More heat. Jingo! that must be a great
draft.”
“They must have some way of shutting off
the draft, and then opening it again,” said Billy,
in a puzzled tone. “There! it’s gone.”
“I’ve got it” exclaimed Dan, suddenly. “I
bet that’s a forge.”
.bn 139.png
.pn +1
“A forge?” repeated Billy, in wonder.
“They’d want a tall chimney for a forge on
account of needing a strong draft,” declared Dan.
“That’s what it is.”
“But a forge in a cave?” queried his brother,
doubtfully. “What for?”
“Ah! that’s another question,” returned Dan.
“I don’t see that far, yet.”
But in secret Dan believed he had guessed the
business of the men who had once, at least, occupied
the cave, whether they were there now, or
not. He said nothing to Billy about this, however.
The younger boy had stumbled into a heap of
split wood. Dummy—or somebody else—had
spent some time in preparing a great heap of fuel
against just such a storm as this that now raged
over the valley of the Colasha.
“And Dan,” whispered Billy, eagerly,
“wouldn’t he have his woodpile pretty near to
the door of the cave? What do you think?”
“I think you’ve got a good head on you,” returned
Dan, promptly. “Let’s go careful here.”
Right at hand was a thick, low clump of
bushes. The snow was heaped upon and into this
brush, until it was waist high, only the tops of
the bushes sticking out.
And, strangely enough, there seemed to be a
narrow path, crooked as a ram’s horn, but quite
plain—through the midst of this brush-clump.
.bn 140.png
.pn +1
“Look, there!” exclaimed the watchful Dan.
“Leads right to the steep side of that rock.
Come on.”
“But there’s no way of getting through that
big boulder!” gasped Billy.
“Under it, perhaps,” ventured Dan.
He stooped as he spoke and tossed the snow
aside. He got below the interlocked branches of
the bushes, and knelt upon the stony ground.
There was a sort of a tunnel under the brush.
The ground was packed hard.
“By the paws of some wild animal that must
have used this runway once,” whispered Dan.
“It leads to his den.”
“I hope it isn’t at home,” chattered Billy.
“But there will be somebody else at home—sure!
Come on—softly.”
In half a minute the two boys, Dan ahead,
and both on hands and knees, had crept to the
foot of the huge rock that seemed so impassable
from a little distance.
Underneath the foot of the boulder, however,
was a narrow passage entering the hillside.
Without doubt it had once been the lair of a
wild animal.
But Dan and Billy did not apprehend the appearance
of any such tenant of the hollow in the
hillside. It was long since any dangerous animal
had been seen in the woods about Riverdale.
.bn 141.png
.pn +1
And it was man that had built the fire. The
two boys crept a little way into the passage and
listened. In a moment they heard a high pitched
voice—a voice shrieking, it seemed, in pain and
fright. But the words—if words the person uttered—were
quite unintelligible.
“What d’ye know about that?” whispered
Billy, forgetting at once his own misfortunes.
“There’s trouble up there——”
Again and again the shrieks echoed down the
passage. Then followed the rough tones of a
deeper voice. The man spoke in anger—there
was no doubt of that—and instantly the shriller
voice cried out again.
.bn 142.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XVII "IN THE DEN"
“It’s the dummy!” Dan exclaimed, in an
awed voice.
“He’s in trouble,” agreed the trembling Billy.
“Whatever will we do? There! hear him?”
“I wish we had a gun,” muttered his brother.
“What for?”
“We’re going to get into a fight in about half
a minute,” Dan declared. “That is—if we stay
here.”
“Let’s get out then,” said Billy. “Whatever
it is——”
Again the piercing cries of the unfortunate
dummy broke out.
“My goodness! I can’t stand that,” gasped
Dan.
“Can we help him—do you think we can?”
demanded Billy. “But let’s not get into trouble
ourselves——”
Again the shrieks. Dan scrambled forward
up the passage, with Billy right after him. The
boys could not remain quiet when a helpless human
being was being tortured.
.bn 143.png
.pn +1
In a few moments they came out into a roomy
cavity. The roof was high and dome-shaped. At
the far side was a huge fireplace of rock and
mortar, with a forge set into one side of it.
There was a fire of charcoal in the forge as
well as a heap of burning cordwood on the wide
hearth.
At a glance the boys saw the whole picture.
There were three rough looking men. Both Dan
and Billy believed they were those who had
robbed them of the Follow Me and had so ill-treated
old John Bromley. But they were not
masked now.
Two were holding the wildly shrieking lad the
Speedwells knew as Dummy. The noise the unfortunate
boy made drowned that made by the
Speedwells in getting into the cave.
The back of the third man was toward the
entrance. He was in command. “Give him another
taste of it!” he ordered, just as Dan and
Billy scrambled to their feet.
At once the other two swung the screaming
boy up, and held the calves of his legs over the
glowing coal on the forge.
The sight was too much for Dan Speedwell.
He let out a yell, picked up a heavy stick of wood
and charged the men. One he brought down at
his first blow.
.bn 144.png
.pn +1
They dropped the dummy, who fell partly in
the fire, screaming and struggling. He overturned
the forge as he fell. The two other men
sprang at Dan.
Billy had found a shovel. He used this with
good effect upon one of the men; but the other
got Dan down and was choking him on the floor
of the smoke-filled cavern.
“Come on, Dummy! Help us!” shouted
Billy, whanging away with his shovel.
But either the scorched boy was too hurt, or
too frightened, to assist those who had come to
his rescue. Dan and Billy had all the fighting
to do themselves.
And they had a very poor chance when the
three men recovered from their surprise. The
one first knocked down rose, kicked the weeping
dummy out of the way, and dived for Billy with
a roar of rage.
He tore the shovel out of the boy’s hands and
hit poor Billy just once across the shoulders. It
nearly knocked the wind out of the lad and he
staggered across the cave and fell against the
wall.
Dan was by this time overpowered. The fight
was over almost as soon as it had begun.
“What d’ye know about these kids buttin’ in
this way?” demanded one of the roughs.
“Ought to give ’em both a taste of the fire,
too.”
.bn 145.png
.pn +1
“No! go easy!” advised the man who seemed
to be the leader, in a cautious tone. “There
must be somebody else near.”
“Why so?”
“These kids wouldn’t have been ’way out here
alone. Maybe we’re in bad, boys——”
But a cry from the third man stopped the
other’s mouth. The excited individual was hauling
away the broken forge.
“Here we were trying to find out from
Dummy where the box was hid, an’ here she be!
Look a’ here, boys! What d’ye know about
this?”
The others left Dan and Billy where they lay
and rushed to the fireplace. Under the legs of
the forge had been a loose stone in the hearth.
One of the fellows pried it up. A cavity was
revealed.
“We’ve got it! we’ve got it!” yelled one of
the men.
“Shut up, I tell you!” exclaimed the leader
of the three. “I tell you there must be somebody
on this island besides these kids.”
“Aw, don’t be so scared, Tom. The kids just
butted in. Friends of Dummy, proberly. Didn’t
know no better.”
“They’ll know better now,” grumbled the cautious
one. “We gotter beat it.”
“You bet,” agreed one of his fellows.
.bn 146.png
.pn +1
Meanwhile two of the men were lifting out
what the hollow under the hearthstone contained.
This was a heavy box, some two feet square,
bound with iron bands, and padlocked.
“Knock off the lock and let’s see ’em!” exclaimed
the more excitable fellow.
“No, we won’t,” declared the leader. “We
gotter beat it.”
“How’ll we get away in this storm?”
“The wind’s all right. We can get away just
the way we come—sure.”
“And these kids?” growled the other, eyeing
the panting and bruised Speedwell boys with
much disfavor.
“Leave ’em here with Dummy.”
“They’ll set the officers after us in short
order.”
“Not if these two lads were foolish enough
to come here to the island alone,” growled the
first speaker.
“Huh! Going to tie ’em up—eh?”
“You bet. And Dummy, too. They can stop
here a while and be company for each other,”
and the fellow laughed in anything but a comforting
way.
Dan and Billy were badly frightened, whether
the dummy was, or not. The latter nursed his
scorched legs in one corner. The Speedwell boys
lay side by side in another. There wasn’t the
first chance for them to escape, and the brothers
knew it.
.bn 147.png
.pn +1
“We butted in where we had no call to, this
time,” muttered Billy, in despair.
They had not long to wait. The three robbers
had come to the island for just one thing, and
they had found it. Whatever was in the padlocked
box, they seemed delighted to have it.
Dan had joked about there being treasure
buried on the island; but that is exactly what
there was—so Billy thought. Dummy had been
left to guard it, and was to show the hidden box
to somebody. But these three ruffians were not
the people who had any right to it.
This was easy to understand. And Dummy,
although he had screamed and would not put up
a fight, was brave in his way. He had suffered
torture rather than show these men where the
box had lain.
Now two of the fellows seized him once more,
and the poor chap screamed again. They only
bound him, however—but they bound him so
tightly that he had good reason to cry out.
It was so with Dan and Billy, in turn, as well.
At wrists and ankles the three boys were lashed
with strong fishline, that cut into the flesh. It
was impossible to stretch their bonds at all without
lacerating their wrists and ankles.
.bn 148.png
.pn +1
Dan and Billy were thankful the scoundrels
did not gag them as they had John Bromley
earlier in the evening. Yet, who would hear
them shout down here in the bowels of the island?
They saw the three men leave the cave, dragging
the heavy box with them. One of them
came back after a moment, made sure for the
last time that the bonds of the trio of captives
were all right, and then he, too, disappeared.
The boys were alone in the cavern.
.bn 149.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XVIII "AN EVENING DRIVE"
Although the weather had been threatening
all day, Mildred Kent went over to Lettie Parker’s
house after supper, as she had promised.
There had been no school for several days, but
the girls were just as busy as Dan and Billy
Speedwell. They were hard at work finishing
certain Christmas presents.
To tell the truth, Lettie’s present was for
Billy Speedwell, and was a handsome silk scarf—thick
and warm—that the bronze-haired girl
had been at work on for several days. Now her
nimble fingers flew as she sat and gossiped with
the doctor’s daughter. Meanwhile the latter was
completing the initials “D. S.” she was embroidering
in the corners of six very handsome handkerchiefs.
“And there’s another thing, Milly,” Lettie
was saying, “that I want to see Billy about.
There’s something going on up at Island Number
One, and they say Dan and Billy know about
it.”
“What do you mean?” asked Mildred,
calmly.
.bn 150.png
.pn +1
“Something queer. You know what the boys
said about that fellow they call ‘Dummy’?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Well, Sheriff Kimball told my father that the
Speedwells are at the island a good deal, and
that the dumb boy is a member of a gang of
outlaws. Now, what do you think of that?”
“What nonsense!” exclaimed Mildred, her
eyes very big and round.
“It’s not nonsense at all. I’m telling you the
truth,” said the bronze-haired young lady,
sharply.
“Of course. I don’t mean that you are not
telling the truth. But this sheriff must be crazy
to believe that Dan and Billy would know any
outlaws. What kind of outlaws?”
“I’m sure I don’t know. But Sheriff Kimball
has been twice to see father about it. Dan and
Billy are bound to get into trouble if they don’t
look out.”
“How ridiculous. I don’t believe there is anybody
on the island.”
“We saw that dummy ourselves,” declared
Lettie, her lips pursed.
“But you went all over the island with Billy
afterward. You didn’t find any hiding place.”
“The sheriff says it’s there. He has reason
to know, he states. There was some man—so
he says—who broke with the outlaws and ‘turned
State’s evidence,’ he calls it. Sheriff Kimball
.bn 151.png
.pn +1
says he has been waiting for two months for this
boy who can’t talk very well to come and see him.
The man who confessed said he would send all
the evidence by this dummy. And you know he
was at Billy’s house and the boys never told the
sheriff——”
“Why should they?” demanded Mildred,
startled.
“Well, you know what the boys said about
finding a slip of paper after the dummy went
away, and what was written on the paper? It
said: ‘Buried on the island. Dummy will show
you the spot.’ Sheriff Kimball says that doubtless
referred to the evidence Harry Biggin meant
him to have.”
“Harry Biggin?”
“That’s the name of the man who broke with
the outlaws and is helping the officers get the
crowd.”
“He’s an informer,” asserted Mildred, with
scorn.
“But that doesn’t help the matter any. If
Dan and Billy have foolishly got themselves
mixed up in it——”
“Mixed up in what?” demanded Mildred,
with some heat. To Mildred Kent’s mind it was
impossible that Dan Speedwell could ever be in
any real trouble—that is, trouble that came about
through his not being “perfectly straight.” Billy,
perhaps, might be foolish; but never Dan!
.bn 152.png
.pn +1
Just as she spoke there was a jingling of sleigh
bells at the door of the Parker house. There had
been little sleighing this winter, save on the river;
but a couple of days before, a trifle of snow had
fallen—enough to crust the Riverdale streets
and the drives in and out of the town.
“Here’s Mr. Kimball now—I do believe!”
cried Lettie, jumping up and running to a front
window. “Yes! he said he was going up the
river to the Biggin place, and he’d stop for
father——”
“This Harry Biggin,” said Mildred, suddenly.
“Is he one of those farmers on the other side
of the river?”
“Yes. They own that big place near Meadville,
only on the other bank.”
“And he says Dan and Billy are connected with
robbers—or outlaws—or something——”
“I never said so!”
“I’m going to ask Mr. Kimball what he means,
then,” said Mildred, firmly, and putting aside her
work she arose and went quickly to the hall
door.
Mr. Parker was welcoming the sheriff at the
door. The latter was a tall, thin and wiry man,
dressed in a long gray ulster belted at the waist.
If old John Bromley could have seen him he
.bn 153.png
.pn +1
would have immediately recognized the man he
had driven away from his dock while the Speedwells
were trying out their new motor-iceboat.
“Hullo!” said the jolly county clerk. “It’s
only my girl and her chum. How are you,
Milly?” and he pinched the cheek of the doctor’s
daughter.
But Mildred was too anxious to be anything
but direct. “Oh! I beg your pardon, sir,” she
said, to the man in the ulster. “But are you the
sheriff?”
“Of course he is!” chuckled Mr. Parker.
“Have you some mysterious evidence you want
to put before him——”
“That’s just what she’s got, Dad!” cried Lettie,
giggling.
“I’ll be glad to take up any case Miss Mildred
has to offer,” said the county official, his
eyes twinkling.
“It isn’t that. I want to know about Dan and
Billy Speedwell. They can’t have done anything
wrong——”
“There it is again, Kimball,” exclaimed the
county clerk, slapping the sheriff on the shoulder.
“You start anything about Dan and Billy in this
neighborhood, and even the girls will be after
you.”
“But what’s their game up there at the
island?”
.bn 154.png
.pn +1
“They have no game there,” said Mildred,
with a very determined look.
“And at that old fellow’s wharf up the river.
I’m not known much around that section. I’m
from the other end of the county, and having
only been in office six months, everybody doesn’t
know I’m sheriff,” and Mr. Kimball laughed.
“To-day I was watching Island Number One
for—well, for a reason. I saw those two boys
racing over there in a most marvelous iceboat
run by a motor——”
“Oh, jolly!” exclaimed Lettie, breaking in.
“They’ve built the new boat, then.”
“Wait, Kimball,” interposed Mr. Parker.
“Tell the girls something more. I can see Mildred
is interested.”
“She is if you are going to arrest Billy and
Dan Speedwell,” laughed Lettie, who was just as
full of fun as her father, and was not above teasing
her chum on occasion.
“Well, I tell you!” exclaimed the sheriff, smiling.
“I’m in a hurry. The Biggins, like all
farmer folk, go to bed early, and I hear that
Harry has dared creep home again and may be
there to-night. I’m in a hurry, as I say; but I’ve
got a two-seated sleigh here, and plenty of robes,
and about the fastest pair of horses in this county—raised
’em myself. What say if we all—you,
too, Parker—drive up the river, and on the way
I’ll explain how the Speedwells seem to be mixed
up with the Steinforth counterfeiting gang.”
.bn 155.png
.pn +1
“The Steinforth counterfeiters?” gasped Mr.
Parker. “That’s more than you’ve told me before,
Kimball.”
“Yes. But it seems we have about got things
to a head now. Something is going to break soon,
and I’ll risk talking a little. Want to go, Parker?”
“We’ll go,” said Mr. Parker, looking at the
girls. “Just ’phone your mother, Milly, that you
are going sleighing with me.”
“That’s all right,” said the sheriff, with a boyish
laugh, and he ran out to spread the robes for
the girls in the rear seat. Not a flake of snow
had fallen yet, but the night was starless, and the
wind cut sharply.
They got under way in ten minutes. The black
horses were young and they had been standing in
the stable behind Appleyard’s all day, and were
very restive. The girls squealed a little as they
clipped the corners going down to the open ice.
>From River Street a path had been made down
to the shore. It was an easy slant and the runners
of the sleigh fairly pushed the horses on
their haunches.
“Easy, boys! now we have it!” cried the sheriff,
coaxingly. He handled the colts as though he
loved them, and they tossed their heads, and
pricked their ears forward, and seemed to know
that he would let them out in a minute and give
them a chance to show their mettle.
.bn 156.png
.pn +1
Their shoes had just been sharpened, and when
they clattered out upon the clear ice they left little
marks every time their dancing hoofs landed.
That did not seem to be often, at the pace they
took when first Mr. Kimball let them out. They
whipped the sleigh behind them as though it was
of a feather’s weight. The two little lamps—one
set at each side of the dash—sent twinkling,
narrow rays of yellow light along the ice, glistening
on each little imperfection. It seemed as
though where the light fell a trail of stardust had
been laid.
But there were no other lights upon the ice.
With the keen wind blowing stronger, none of
the boats were out from the Boat Club cove where
all but the Speedwells’ craft were kept. And
there were few skaters out on the river to-night.
For several miles—until they had swung past
the lower end of Island Number One, indeed—Mr.
Kimball had no chance for much talk. The
girls were delighted with the drive now.
“It’s almost as good as being on the boys’ ice
yacht,” declared Lettie.
“And now, what about the Speedwells and this
Steinforth counterfeiting gang, Kimball?” demanded
Mr. Parker, laying a hand upon the
sheriff’s arm.
.bn 157.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XIX "LOST IN THE BLIZZARD"
“I’ve got nothing against the lads,” explained
the sheriff, sitting sideways on the front seat after
bringing the horses down to a more quiet pace,
and speaking so the girls on the back seat could
hear him. “But some things I have heard make
me suspicious.”
“They seem to have had something to do with
a boy called ‘the Dummy’—he’s been to their
house, you know. You told me so yourself,
Parker.”
Mildred flashed Lettie a sharp glance and the
red-haired girl had the grace to blush. So it had
been her chattering to her father of what the
Speedwell boys had told them about the island,
and Dummy, that had set the sheriff to looking
up Dan and Billy.
“This dummy seems to be the important link
in our case against Steinforth and his co-operators.
Most of the gang were arrested months
ago by the Federal officers. But the engraving
plates they worked from and a lot of finished
notes, as well as a coiner’s outfit, were cached by
the outlaws before their arrest.”
.bn 158.png
.pn +1
“Now, this Biggin, and the dummy, who is his
nephew——”
“Oh! is he really dumb?” cried Lettie, curiously.
“No. Dreadfully tongue-tied, I believe. A
good person to trust a secret to, for he couldn’t
tell it easily,” and the sheriff laughed.
“But is the poor boy really a criminal?”
asked Mildred, faintly.
“Why—as to that——No! I fancy he is
attached to Biggin. And Biggin was never
really a member of Steinforth’s gang. Biggin
drinks—that’s his failing. He used to go off into
the woods on lonesome sprees. That’s how he
fell in with the counterfeiting gang, he told me.
“Well, when the Federal officers got close on
the trail of the outlaws they hid the plates and
other things I mentioned, and sort of left Biggin
in charge of the camp. But at once all the sheriffs
in the State got busy. There’s a good, big reward
offered for the discovery of the evidence the authorities
need to convict the gang.
“After Biggin talked with me, he got scared.
He wrote me he’d send the dummy to lead me
to the place where the plates, and so forth, were
cached. But he never came to me—the dummy
didn’t, I mean.
.bn 159.png
.pn +1
“Now, what you tell me, Parker, about the
Speedwells meeting and being friendly with Biggin’s
nephew, has made me suspicious——”
“I’m sorry if it made you suspicious of Dan
and Billy,” said the county clerk. “No need.”
“That may be. But they go out to that island—and
I believe the dummy is on the island part
of the time. It may be, from what you tell me
about the paper the Speedwells say he dropped,
that the engraving plates and the other stuff is
hidden on that Island Number One.”
“You haven’t any reason to suspect Dan and
Billy, just the same,” declared Mildred, promptly.
Both the sheriff and Mr. Parker laughed.
“Now, don’t you put me in your bad books, Miss
Milly,” begged Sheriff Kimball. “I don’t mean
to cause the boys any trouble. I am hoping to-night
to catch Harry Biggin and make him talk
plainly. That’s the object of this trip—although
it is a pleasure to take you young ladies for a
drive,” and he laughed again.
He spoke to the horses then, and the blacks
switched their tails and “let out a notch” in their
speed. They seemed as eagerly desirous of covering
the distance to the Biggin farm in a short
time as their master.
The girls cowered down behind the high back
of the front seat, and so had the wind broken for
them. But it was awfully cold. Now and then a
flake of snow slanted down upon them, and the
.bn 160.png
.pn +1
girls’ shoulders were nicely powdered before the
sheriff turned the horses’ heads toward the far
side of the river, and they found an easily sloping
bit of bank up which they could drive.
This was beyond the last of the string of islands,
and the lights of Meadville—on the other
bank—were in sight. Just ahead, as the horses
struggled into a well traveled highway, where the
runners gritted on the half-bare ground, was a
lamp in a window.
“Biggin’s place,” said the sheriff. “And the
folks are up yet.”
The snow was gathering by this time, for it
had taken them more than two hours to drive
from Riverdale, spry as the horses had been.
And, without doubt, the blacks were glad of the
breathing spell promised them when the sheriff
drove directly under the wind-shelter beside the
farmhouse. This shed offered a warm spot even
to the guests the sheriff had brought.
“Don’t want to take you to the house till I
find out how the land lies,” he whispered, handing
the reins to Mr. Parker, and slipping out
from under the robe.
“O-o-o! doesn’t it make you feel de-lic-ious-ly
shivery?” whispered Lettie to the doctor’s
daughter. “Just like being on a regular man-hunt
with the sheriff? We’re his posse.”
.bn 161.png
.pn +1
“Goosey!” returned Mildred. “I’m on the
point of shivering, all right. But only from
cold.”
“Are you well wrapped up, girls?” asked the
county clerk.
“Oh, yes, sir,” answered Mildred. “And the
bricks are still warm at our feet. But I’m afraid
it’s going to snow dreadfully hard.”
“What’s a little snow?” demanded the careless
Lettie. “Who’s afraid?”
“I wouldn’t want to be caught out on the
river in a heavy storm—would you, sir?” asked
Mildred of Mr. Parker.
“It’s a straight road home,” said the gentleman,
quite as careless as his daughter. “The
river ought to be better than the road, as far as
that goes.”
“But just suppose we got turned around in
this snow?” Mildred objected, turning her head
to watch the flakes falling thicker every moment.
“Did you ever see it snow so hard, Lettie?”
“Lots of times—sure. Don’t be a ’fraid cat,
Milly.”
The doctor’s daughter kept her fears to herself
thereafter. Mr. Parker produced a vacuum
bottle filled with hot milk. He had been thoughtful
enough to supply himself with that before
leaving the house for this long ride. The hot
drink helped the girls immensely.
.bn 162.png
.pn +1
“Now I can stand anything,” declared Lettie,
happily. “When are we going to be called into
action by the sheriff, Pa?”
“He does seem a long time; doesn’t he?” returned
her father, as the horses stamped, and
shook their heads, and tinkled the bells on the
harness.
Finally they heard a door shut, and in a moment
Sheriff Kimball appeared. He looked pretty
serious in the light of the sleigh lamps.
“What do you know about that?” he said,
crossly. “They swear Harry hasn’t been here,
and invited me to search the house for him. And
I did it, too. I’ve got it in for that boy, when I
do catch him. He’s only scared; but he knows
more hide-outs in the wild country between here
and Barnegat than anybody else. He’s run wild
in the woods most of his life.
“He left a message for me, though. Tells
me to go to Island Number One and see the
dummy. Now, I’ve been there—twice. I couldn’t
find hide nor hair of that boy either time.”
“We might stop going back?” suggested Mr.
Parker.
“I mean to. But, I declare! it’s come on to
snow hard.”
“Oh, a little snow won’t hurt us. We’re
neither sugar nor salt,” cried Lettie. “And
chasing outlaws is awfully interesting,” and she
giggled again, seeing her chum’s serious face.
.bn 163.png
.pn +1
“I guess we won’t wait long at that island
to-night,” observed Sheriff Kimball, when he had
backed the sleigh out of the shed and got the
impatient horses headed around again.
“Will you go back by the river, or the road?”
asked Mr. Parker.
“Oh, the river. This road is half bare yet,
you see,” as the runners scraped over a “sand-bar.”
“We’ll slip along on the ice twice as fast,
you know. Come up, Dandy! Steady, Poke!”
The blacks got into step and they spun away
along the short stretch of road and then down
upon the river. At first they did not realize how
hard the wind was blowing, being sheltered to a
degree by the high bank. But when Mr. Kimball
headed out into the middle of the stream, intending
to cross to the Riverdale side of the river,
the travelers quickly discovered that they were
in the heart of a severe storm.
“Some blow—eh?” shouted Mr. Parker, into
the sheriff’s ear.
“This is a bad storm, Parker. I—had—no—idea——”
He was having trouble with his spirited team.
The gusts of wind which drove the snow down
upon them, fired the blacks with a desire to run.
They ran in the right direction for a while; but
soon they were winded, for the sleigh pulled
heavily through the gathering drifts.
.bn 164.png
.pn +1
There were flaws in the gale. Suddenly the
wind shifted from point to point of the compass.
The two men could not see a light upon either
bank of the river. Indeed, before long it was
difficult to know whether the horses were dragging
them down the stream, or up.
The snow fell faster and faster. The girls,
locked in each other’s arms on the rear seat, were
covered with a fresh blanket. They did not know
that the men in front robbed themselves to do
this.
The cold was penetrating—horribly so! Now
and then a swirling, whirling eddy of wind and
snow fell upon the sleigh, the horses, and all,
and well nigh turned them around. The men
were choked by the storm; the horses snorted
and plunged, and were able to move on but
slowly.
“Dickens of a mess we’ve got into, Kimball!”
shouted Parker in the sheriff’s ear.
“I’m sorry I ever suggested taking these children
with us. It’s awful, Parker,” said the worried
sheriff.
At that instant there came a sudden lull in
the storm. The wind fell, and the soft “sh-sh-sh”
of the snow seemed rather soothing. But
there was a sharper sound discernible, now that
the tempest was lulled.
“Put! put! put-a-put!”
.bn 165.png
.pn +1
“What d’ye know about that?” cried the
county clerk, seizing the sheriff’s arm. “It’s a
motor—what?”
“It is. It’s that motor-iceboat. I heard it
to-day when the Speedwells were trying it out.”
“Then it’s Dan and Billy,” declared Mr. Parker.
“Well, now! what do you think of that?
Out on the river in such a storm. Shall we shout
to them?”
“My goodness, do!” cried Lettie, poking her
head over the back of the seat. “If Billy Speedwell
is out there, he’ll know the way home—sure.
Let’s all shout, Pa!”
.bn 166.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XX "“NEVER SAY DIE!”"
It was, of course, Billy who first found his
tongue after the three robbers had left the trio
of boys bound in the cavern on Island Number
One.
“We got into a nice mess this time; didn’t
we?” he complained.
Dan was silent; and it was not strange that the
tongue-tied youth was likewise dumb.
“We’ll have a nice time getting away, too,”
growled Billy. “Dad will have something to say
about it, Dan. He’ll have to go on the milk
route in the morning——”
“Is that all that’s worrying you?” demanded
Dan, in his quiet voice.
“Well!”
“If the storm continues, and nobody gets out
here to the island to find us, it looks to me as
though we’d be in quite a pickle. What do you
think? Getting the milk to the customers around
Riverdale isn’t bothering me.”
“Crickey! we’ll be hungry bye and bye, I suppose,”
admitted Billy.
.bn 167.png
.pn +1
“We must find some way of getting out of this
place, or we’ll be more than hungry. Can you
stretch those cords a little bit, Billy?”
“Crickey!” exclaimed the younger lad again.
“I’ve done all of that I want to. Don’t you see
my wrists are bleeding?”
“I know, Billy. So are mine. And
Dummy——”
He rolled over with an effort to look at the
strange lad. The latter was weeping softly, the
tears running unchecked down his dusty face. His
legs still hurt him most woefully, without
doubt.
“Well,” grunted Dan, “I guess we needn’t
look to him for much help. If we are going to
get out of this mess, Billy, we’ve got to do it ourselves.”
“I have a sharp knife in my pocket, Dannie——”
“So have I. Sharper than yours. But how’ll
we get at either of them—and how use them?”
demanded Dan.
“Well! what else is there?”
“Let me think,” said Dan.
“A lot of good thinkin’ will do us,” growled
Billy.
“Never say die!” quoted Dan. “There’s got
to be a way out of it.”
.bn 168.png
.pn +1
“Out of this cave? Sure!” snorted his
brother. “The way we came in. And I wish
to goodness we hadn’t come in at all!”
“They’d have burned Dummy badly if we
hadn’t.”
“And is he any better off? Besides,” added
Billy, “those scamps got what they were after,
just the same. What do you suppose was in that
box, Dan?”
“Ask Dummy,” suggested Dan, with a grim
smile.
“Huh! And how far will they get with the box
through this storm?”
“Maybe the storm has eased up,” said Dan.
“If they try to walk to the shore—either shore—they’ll
have a job; for I fancy there is a lot
of snow on the ice by this time.”
“They said they’d take our boat,” declared
Billy.
“And they’ll have a nice time sailing her
through the drifts.”
“Just the same, they are better off than we
are right now,” declared Billy.
Dan only grunted. He had been at work during
the past few minutes, and was rolling himself
over and over on the floor.
“My gracious!” exclaimed his brother, “do
you expect one part of this hard floor is any better
than another?”
.bn 169.png
.pn +1
Dan made no reply. Billy and the dummy
watched him. Dan was gradually working himself
near to the hearth.
The overturning of the forge with the live
coals in it had done no harm, after the smoke
had cleared away. There was nothing for the
coals to set afire. But the heap of ash-covered
coals was still hot underneath.
Dan was very well aware of this; yet Billy
saw him rolling quite close to the embers. He
called out:
“Look out, Dan! You’ll be burned!”
“Never mind yelling about it,” growled the
older youth, between his set teeth.
He knew he had a peculiarly unpleasant job
to perform; but Dan was just brave enough to
do it. Once he had won a motorcycle race with
flames eating into his leg while he covered the
last lap—and he bore the scar of that yet.
He judged his distance well, gritted his teeth,
and rolled close to the heap of embers. He
could feel them scorching his back, while his tied
wrists were right over the stirred embers.
At once a flame sprang up. There was the
smell of scorching flesh. Billy, suddenly understanding
what his brother was about, screamed
aloud as though it were he who was being burned.
He tried to throw himself across the floor of
the cave to reach Dan, by his action forcing the
cords deeper into his own flesh.
.bn 170.png
.pn +1
And then Dan Speedwell flung himself over
and over on the floor, still silent but in evident
agony. His hands, however, were free!
“Oh, Dan! Dan!” sobbed Billy. “What have
you done?”
He wouldn’t have cried for himself; but that
his brother should have sacrificed himself in this
way cut Billy to the heart.
“I know what I’ve done,” said Dan, shakenly,
at length sitting up and trying to get a hand into
his trousers pocket. “I know what I’ve done.
I’ve made a chance for us to get free. Shut up
your bawling, Billy! Somebody had to do it.”
He got out the knife, despite his burned wrist—and
the burn was deep and angry. The skin
of both wrists for at least half the way around
was scorched.
Dan’s face worked with pain as he opened
the blade, then cut the cords that bound his own
ankles, using both hands. It hurt him dreadfully
to use his hands at all.
But he was free, and he proceeded at once to
free the other boys. Billy fairly hugged him,
when once his arms were loose again.
“Oh, Dan! you’re the best fellow—the very
best one!—who ever lived,” he cried. “I
wouldn’t have had the pluck to do that——”
.bn 171.png
.pn +1
“Shucks!” grunted Dan. “Yes, you would.
You didn’t just happen to think of it. We’ve got
to get out of here quick, it seems to me; we
couldn’t wait for rescue.”
“But in this storm——?”
“Well, if those fellows dared venture out into
the blizzard, I guess we can follow them; can’t
we?” the older Speedwell demanded.
“Follow them!”
“Of course. I’m not going to lose the Follow
Me if I can help it. And that box, too——”
“We don’t know what’s in it!” cried Billy.
“Whatever it was, it didn’t belong to them,”
cried Dan, his eyes flashing with anger.
“Ask Dummy,” suggested Billy, as Dan bent
over the other boy to cut his lashings. Dan did
so. But all they got was a mumble which meant
nothing, and many head shakes.
“Oh!” cried Dan, “I don’t believe he knows.”
“And yet he had charge of it?”
“Of the box?”
“Well, didn’t he? Remember that paper he
dropped at our house? He was taking that message
to somebody—and it wasn’t to any of those
three who got the box—not much!” exclaimed
Billy.
“He did his best to keep the place secret from
those who shouldn’t know, I reckon,” Dan agreed.
“I bet something big depends upon that box.”
“Money in it!” exclaimed Billy, his eyes
sparkling.
.bn 172.png
.pn +1
“Never mind what. Those fellows oughtn’t
to have it. Let’s find out where they’ve gone.”
“Oh, I’m with you, if you’re bound to try following
them,” agreed Billy. “But not before
you’ve had those wrists bound up. I’ve a clean
handkerchief in my pocket.”
“Guess your own wrists need a little attention,
too,” returned Danny, making a grimace of
pain. “And how about Dummy’s legs?”
The kettle, hung on the hook over the open
fire, was steaming cheerfully all this time. Dan
threw on some more wood, and Billy unhung the
kettle and poured some water into a pan. They
laved the burns with just as hot water as they
could bear, to take the sting out.
Dummy’s trousers were burned in great holes
between his ankles and his knees. His legs were
merely scorched and blistered, however; his
burns were not as deep as Dan’s.
Billy had crawled out of the cave for some
snow with which to fill the kettle and reduce the
temperature of the water poured into the pan.
He reported the snow as blinding and the wind
howling in the higher trees like a pack of wolves.
“If those fellows got away from this island,
they’ve got pluck—that’s all I got to say,” he
grunted.
.bn 173.png
.pn +1
“You bet they got away,” Dan returned,
quickly. “Otherwise they’d be back here to the
cave—don’t you see? No other place of shelter;
is there, Dummy?” he asked the third boy.
The latter shook his head vigorously. He
watched Dan with the eyes of a devoted dog.
Evidently he was ready to fall down and worship
Dan Speedwell.
It had been Dan who interfered and saved him
from his captors. Dan had released him from
his bonds. And now, it appeared, he was ready
to follow the Speedwells in their attempt to trail
the three robbers who had borne away the ironbound
chest.
“You understand, Dummy?” demanded Billy.
“We’re going to chase those men. Mebbe we’ll
have another fight with them.”
He was whittling a handle on a husky stick of
firewood, and showed by his motions what he
purposed to do with the weapon if he caught up
with the men who had so abused them.
It did not, however, shake Dummy’s determination.
He was ready to start when the Speedwell
boys were ready.
.bn 174.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XXI "THE CRY FOR HELP"
After the fight in the cave Dan and Billy were
sore and tired, and their wrists and ankles very
painful. But it seemed to them both that it was
their business to follow the outlaws, if they could,
and learn what disposition was made of the
“treasure box,” as Billy insisted upon calling the
chest that had been hidden under the hearthstone
in the cave.
Besides, the boys were very anxious about their
new iceboat. The robbers, if they used it to get
to the mainland, as they evidently intended, might
hide the Follow Me where Dan and Billy would
be unable to find it before the races, a week away.
“Though right now,” Billy remarked, as they
crept out of the passage leading into the cavern,
“it doesn’t look as though we’d hold iceboat
races next week on the Colasha. Goodness, Dan!
did you ever in your life see so much snow?”
“It’s worse on this side of the island, don’t
you see?” said his brother. “The snow is drifting
this way. The high back of the island breaks
the wind and the snow piles up here in drifts.”
.bn 175.png
.pn +1
“But our Fly-up-the-Creek is on this side of
the island,” complained Billy. “She’s buried a
mile deep, I bet!”
The boys started up the hill, but the snow beat
down upon them so heavily, and the wind was so
boisterous, they were glad to lock arms. Although
Dummy made a “bad botch” of talking,
as Billy said, he proved to be pretty muscular and
the trio got along famously until they reached the
summit.
They had come in this direction because Dan
pointed out that it was not likely the three robbers,
burdened with the heavy box, would face
the gale either with the Follow Me, or afoot.
“And I don’t believe they will go towards
Riverdale,” he observed. “You see, they knew
old John Bromley was stirring things up over the
’phone when they burst into his house and captured
him. Although they left him bound, they
realized that whoever John was ’phoning to would
look the old man up pretty quick.
“Now, naturally, the whole of Riverdale
would be aroused by the robbery—and it sure
would be if we hadn’t started right out after the
Follow Me. Even now perhaps Bromley has
called people up on the ’phone because we are
out in the storm so long.
.bn 176.png
.pn +1
“So, it seems to me,” concluded Dan, with an
effort, “that the three robbers are more likely to
try for Meadville and the railroad.”
Dummy nodded violently and tried to speak
his agreement with this statement. Billy only
grunted. He had all he could do to plow through
the drifts without wasting any breath in discussion.
They got over the ridge and slid down the steep
rocks for several feet until the island itself broke
the force of the gale. The wind did not blow
directly across the island, but the slant being
from up stream the heights acted as a windbreak.
“Now where?” asked Billy, with a sigh.
“Listen!” commanded his brother, unexpectedly.
Dan held up his hand and all three strained
their ears for several moments. Then, simultaneously,
the trio heard again the sound that had
startled Dan. It was the distant explosions of
the motor—the motor of the Follow Me!
“They have taken her,” growled Dan. “There
they go,” and he pointed up stream.
“But they’re not so far away,” returned the
surprised Billy. “And it’s more than an hour
since they cleared out and left us in the cave.”
“I guess they had trouble in digging the boat
out of the snow and getting her started. It’s a
wonder the motor wasn’t frozen up on a night
like this.”
.bn 177.png
.pn +1
It was in a sort of lull of the blizzard that they
heard the explosions of the engine. Now the
wind and snow swooped down again, and muffled
the sound. But Dan started straight down
the hill.
“Are you going after them?” yelled Billy.
“Surest thing you know!”
“I believe we’re crazy! We’ll be lost in this
snow.”
“Not much we won’t,” declared his brother.
“I’ve got a compass.”
He showed it—a very delicately adjusted instrument
which he kept in a case in his pocket.
At the edge of the ice (there was not so much
snow on this side of the island) he waited to hear
the sound of the engine again. Then he took his
bearings, and at once set forth into the storm.
This time Dan led, Billy hung to his coat-tail,
and Dummy brought up the rear. Thus, keeping
literally in touch with each other, they would not
be likely to drift apart while battling with the
elements. And battle they actually had to.
The moment they got from under the shelter
of the island the snow and wind almost overwhelmed
them. Never had the boys experienced
such a gale. Sometimes they were beaten to their
knees, and had they not clung together, one or
the other surely would have been driven away and
lost.
.bn 178.png
.pn +1
“No wonder those men have gotten no farther
from the island!” yelled Dan, with his lips
close to Billy’s ear.
“Right-O!” agreed the younger boy. “And
can we catch up with ’em?”
“We don’t want to; we want to trail ’em,”
returned Dan.
On they pressed, taking advantage of every
flaw in the gale. Had it not been for Dan’s compass
they would have become turned about and
lost their way ere they had left the island behind
them ten minutes.
The wind blew between the points of Island
Number One and the next above it with such
force that the boys made very slow progress.
When at last they got in the lee of the second
island, they stopped to breathe, and to listen.
They did not at once hear the exhaust of the
engine on the Follow Me; but they did hear something
else. Voices were shouting—seemingly far
out on the frozen river.
Again and again they heard the sounds.
“Ahoy! Ahoy!” came plainly to their ears.
Then—and much to the Speedwells’ amazement—the
boys heard their own names called—and
in accents whose note of peril was not to be
doubted:
“Dan! Billy! Help us Dan and Billy
Spe-e-e-dwell! He-e-e-lp!”
.bn 179.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XXII "THE BATTLE IN THE SNOW"
Both Mildred Kent and Lettie Parker believed
with the latter’s father that the explosions of the
engine near them in the storm meant that Dan
and Billy Speedwell were near at hand.
The girls, tossing aside the sheltering robe and
the accumulation of snow, stood up, too, and
clinging to each other shrieked their boy friends’
names into the sounding gale.
Their own cries might not have carried very
far, save in the lulls of the tempest; but with the
voices of Mr. Parker and the sheriff, they raised
a cry that was certainly heard by whoever was
working the motor iceboat through the blizzard.
The “put-put-put” came nearer. A hoarse
hail reached the ears of the quartette in the
sleigh.
Mr. Kimball had brought his horses to a dead
stop. Indeed, the beasts were glad to breathe,
although they were far from exhaustion. No
better pair of colts, as Mr. Kimball said, were
to be found in the county.
.bn 180.png
.pn +1
“I don’t hear that engine now,” cried Mr.
Parker. “Have they stopped?”
He called again, then waited for an answer.
The snow seemed to have smothered the sounds.
Again Mildred and Lettie shrieked the names of
Dan and Billy. They had every confidence in
the boys being able to help them if they only
heard.
There was another answer—this time nearer.
“Got ’em!” cried the delighted Mr. Parker.
“I don’t just see how they are going to help
us,” grumbled Mr. Kimball.
“Dan will find a way,” asserted Mildred, now
the most hopeful of the quartette.
The next moment a figure appeared in the
swirling snow. But it was not Dan or Billy. It
was much too tall for either.
“Hullo, there!” exclaimed the stranger, in a
very hoarse voice. “What’s the matter here?”
A second figure appeared before either Mr.
Parker or the sheriff could answer. The second
man said, quite as roughly as the first:
“Gals, by thunder! And a fine pair o’
horses, Tom.”
“You hit it right, Jake,” said the first man.
“And just what we want—hey?”
“I wouldn’t try ter go on in that blamed old
scooter—not much! And we won’t have to lug
the box.”
.bn 181.png
.pn +1
“Shut up!”
“Aw, it’s all right. This is luck——”
The sheriff interposed suddenly. “I take it
you fellows consider that your meeting with us
is providential; don’t you?”
“Huh?” growled the first speaker. “You’re
slingin’ fine language, I guess. What we means
ter do is ter take the sled an’ the hosses. That’s
all. And there won’t be room for youse gents—or
the gals.”
“Why, you scoundrel!” exclaimed Mr. Parker.
“What do you mean?”
“Cut that out!” commanded the man called
Tom, stepping quickly to the county clerk’s side
of the sleigh.
Lettie screamed. The man grabbed Mr. Parker
by the collar and dragged him out of the
sleigh. Mr. Parker shouted aloud in his anger,
and tried to grapple with the man, but was struck
a hard blow with a short club, or piece of gas
pipe, by the other man. For the moment he was
knocked almost senseless.
The sheriff was not frightened, however. He
dropped the reins and leaped to the ice, where
the snow was now almost knee deep.
“Get down in the sleigh, girls—down!” he
commanded. “Look out for bullets! Hands up,
you two fellows—put your hands up, quick!
Quick, I tell you, or I’ll fire!”
.bn 182.png
.pn +1
He had drawn a pistol and his tone was so
earnest that the men must have known that he
would use it. They were amazed for the moment.
“I am the sheriff of this county. I believe you
are two fellows for whom I have been looking.
Tom Davis—Scar-Faced Tom—I recognize you
from the warden’s description. You were discharged
from the Meadville penitentiary only a
week ago, and it looks very much to me as though
you were going back there again.”
The man whom the sheriff addressed—the redoubtable
“Scar-Faced Tom”—was not a little
cowed by the sheriff’s speech—and extremely so
by the business-like look of the revolver. But
while Mr. Kimball kept this fellow under surveillance,
and Mr. Parker was still lying stunned in
the snow, the other fellow dived into the darkness
and the storm, yelling for the third, who had
remained with the motor iceboat.
The sheriff sent a pistol ball after him; but he
would better have refrained. Tom Davis, seizing
his opportunity (as he thought) made a great
stride for the sheriff as the flame of the discharged
revolver flashed right over his shoulder.
Davis would have had Kimball by the throat
had it not been for the county clerk. The latter
struggled to a sitting posture just at the right moment,
and seized the villain’s ankle. He twisted
it and, roaring, the man went down.
.bn 183.png
.pn +1
Sheriff Kimball tossed his pistol to Mr. Parker,
and jumped on the fallen robber’s back. His
attack was so unexpected that the other was helpless
and it seemed as though the sheriff was going
to make one capture, at least, without much
trouble.
Mildred and Lettie were about as scared as
they could be. The firing of the sheriff’s pistol,
and the rough tones and fighting seemed terrible
to both the doctor’s daughter and her chum.
Once Mildred had been troubled by tramps in
the swamp up near Karnac Lake; but Dan had
rescued her at that time. So it was not strange
that now she should cry aloud:
“Oh, dear, me! I wish Dan were here.”
“And I’d like to know what’s got Billy Speedwell!”
rejoined her chum. “Do you suppose
these awful men have stolen the boys’ new iceboat?”
“Oh! they’re wicked enough to do anything,”
gasped Mildred.
Mr. Parker was staggering to the sheriff’s assistance.
But before he reached him he dropped
the pistol in the snow. In the darkness and storm
it was not easy to find the weapon again; and
while he was scrambling about on all fours to
obtain it, two figures dashed out of the smother
and fell upon him. The second robber and his
mate had returned.
.bn 184.png
.pn +1
They overpowered Mr. Parker in a moment.
Then they hauled Mr. Kimball off the prostrate
ex-convict; but in that minute the sheriff had
choked the fellow into subjection.
He could not rise to help his comrades. Mr.
Parker and the sheriff faced but two of the gang,
but the latter had the advantage.
Mr. Parker was not used to such rough work.
The sheriff, however, was a quick and agile man,
ready for almost any emergency which might
arise.
He was, too, one of those men who “never
give up till the last gun is fired.” He kept on
fighting, and the two robbers found him hard to
subdue. Suddenly Mr. Parker went down under
a swing of the blackjack that had previously felled
him.
“Oh! my father! My father!” shrieked Lettie,
who was peering over the back of the sleigh.
“Billy! Billy Speedwell! Why don’t you help
us?”
She screamed this last question at the top of
her voice, and it did not go unanswered. First
aroused by the explosions of the motor iceboat
engine, and led on by the shouting of the girls
and their guardians in the sleigh, the two Speedwell
boys and Dummy had come near to the scene
of the battle in the snow just as the sheriff fired
his pistol.
.bn 185.png
.pn +1
The boys recognized the girls’ voices, and also
Mr. Parker’s.
“Mildred!” exclaimed Dan, in amazement.
“She’s in trouble.”
“And that’s Let—as sure as shooting!”
agreed Billy. “And her father.”
Dummy said nothing, but he kept on with his
new friends—and he had to travel some to keep
up with them. For neither the wind nor the
snow retarded the Speedwells just then.
As the two robbers sprang upon Mr. Parker
and the sheriff for the second time, Dan, Billy,
and Dummy appeared. The Speedwells gave a
great shout and plunged into the affray, swinging
their clubs. Dummy kept in the rear, but
he helped some in the end. The man, Tom
Davis, whom the sheriff had overpowered, began
to stir. The Dummy ran to him and threatened
him with the club he had brought from the cave
on Island Number One.
The battle in the blizzard was soon over. The
three rascals were down in the snow, rubbing their
heads, and begging for mercy almost as soon as
reinforcements in shape of the three boys appeared.
.bn 186.png
.pn +1
.pm chap XXIII "DUMMY “GETS IN GOOD”"
There was not a weapon found on the three
robbers, save the blackjack. The sheriff’s pistol
was lost; but once the gangsters had been subdued,
they made no effort to attack their captors
again.
Besides, Billy and Dummy stood over them
with their clubs while Dan took one of the dim
lights from the sleigh and went through the storm
to find the iceboat on which the thieves had
reached the spot.
He found it, got some rope, and the wrists of
the three captives were tied behind them. And
as Dan and Billy were the ones who did the
tying you may be sure they made the bonds quite
as taut as their own had been!
“I don’t see as those fellows have done her
any harm, Billy,” the older boy told his brother
in a whisper. “But she’s almost buried in the
snow.”
“And how’ll we get her back to-night?” demanded
Billy, anxiously.
“I’m afraid we’re not likely to.”
.bn 187.png
.pn +1
“Who knows what will happen to the Follow
Me away out here? Crickey, Dan! let’s stay and
watch her.”
But they could not do that. In the first place,
the girls would not hear of it.
“You stay here, Dan Speedwell?” gasped Mildred.
“No, indeed! You mustn’t!”
“Why, I’ll never speak to you again if you
don’t go back to town with us, Billy,” declared
Lettie, with quite as much emphasis.
“You can see just how we stand with these
young ladies, Parker,” broke in the jolly sheriff.
“The Speedwell boys forever! And I don’t
know but the girls are about right. We wouldn’t
have got this bunch if it hadn’t been for the boys.
“Besides, what they tell me makes me believe
that this adventure has been a very fortunate one
indeed. These men were after those buried plates
and the other evidence. They have maltreated
this poor chap,” and he put his hand on Dummy’s
shoulder. “Tom Davis, here, undoubtedly heard
about the buried box before he left the penitentiary.
Some of his pals are already there, and
prisoners have ways of circulating intelligence.
“Tom, here, got these other two blacklegs to
help him, and they thought they’d make a getaway
with the box. Now we’ll take that box
along with us to Riverdale.”
.bn 188.png
.pn +1
Dummy and Dan went to the stranded iceboat
again and brought back the ironbound box. It
was all they cared to stagger under in that storm.
As soon as Dummy had been made to understand
who the sheriff was, he made no objection
to giving up the box. Indeed, he seemed glad
to be quit of the responsibility.
“And let me tell you, there is a reward coming
to somebody for the recovery of that box, if
not for the arrest of these three fellows,” said
Sheriff Kimball. “I shall see to it that this poor
lad gets his share.”
“Well, we may say that this ill wind is going
to blow somebody good, then,” remarked Mr.
Parker. “But I believe it is blowing harder than
ever, Kimball. Do you know where we are?”
The sheriff had little idea; but Dan knew.
His compass came into play and they found that
the horses had really headed around and were
going up stream again when they made their halt.
“We certainly got well turned around,” admitted
the county clerk.
“Now, you see, Pa!” exclaimed Lettie. “You
big men would have dragged us around in the
snow all night, and we’d been lost, and frozen
up tight maybe——”
“I don’t see that your boy knights are going
to do much better,” returned Mr. Parker, rather
grimly. “This is a bad storm. I wish we had
never left that farmhouse, Kimball.”
.bn 189.png
.pn +1
“So do I,” admitted the sheriff.
“We can’t all pile into this sleigh—the horses
can scarcely draw it as it is. That box is a
weight, and no mistake.”
“I say, sir,” said Dan to the sheriff, again consulting
the compass. “I know we can get to
John Bromley’s dock, all right. It is a good distance,
but as long as we know which way to head,
we’re bound to bring up there if we keep near
enough the shore.”
“Sensibly said, boy,” agreed Parker.
“I’ll walk ahead of the horses. You can’t get
them out of a walk, anyway,” pursued Dan.
“You folks get into the sleigh again, and let
those fellows walk behind. Billy and Dummy
will see that they don’t fall out of the
procession.”
The sheriff made one amendment to this. He
refused to ride in the sleigh, but made Mr. Parker
and the girls snuggle down under the robes.
He declared he preferred to keep moving, anyway,
and he led the colts himself.
They acted better with him at their heads, for
the poor beasts were frightened and pretty well
winded. Thus the procession started—and there
were no stragglers. The dummy and Billy
Speedwell saw to that.
.bn 190.png
.pn +1
They were all tired and half-blinded by the
snow and wind; but the work kept their blood in
circulation. Those afoot were better off than
Mr. Parker and the girls.
The three prisoners suffered a good deal before
long. It is not easy to walk at any time
with one’s hands tied behind one’s back; but to
wade through knee-deep snowdrifts under those
conditions is very hard indeed.
The cords around their wrists stopped the circulation,
too; and the men were in danger of suffering
frost-bitten hands. Tom Davis, the ex-convict
and the ugliest man in the trio, was the
quickest to suffer and make his suffering known.
Like every other bully, he was a coward. He
had invented the way to torture Dummy when
they desired to know where the hidden box lay,
and he had exulted in the lad’s pain. But he
could not have held out against the scorching for
a minute.
Now he begged and pleaded with Billy to
loosen his bonds. He even cried and declared
his hands would “freeze and drop off.”
“Then, by crickey!” exclaimed young Speedwell,
“you’ll be able to keep them out of other
people’s pockets. Get on with you!” and he
poked the fellow in the back with his stick.
“It was all right when you tied us up and left
us to starve, or freeze in that cave on the island,”
pursued Master Billy. “You might have known
you were bound to get yours.”
.bn 191.png
.pn +1
Tom blubbered along, stumbling through the
snow, and even his mates scorned him.
They were not a pleasant party, to say the
least. Once or twice one of the prisoners fell.
Billy and Dummy helped him up again; and they
were sure that the cords held. The guards did
not neglect their captives at any stage of the
game.
The procession moved slowly on, Dan in the
lead. He brought them in near to the high bank
of the Colasha. There were farmhouses somewhere
along the riverside; but the bank was so
steep that it would have been very difficult to get
the horses up to the highway. Furthermore, in
this blinding snowstorm, it was impossible to see
a light.
They struggled on with a desperate attempt at
cheerfulness, shouting encouragement to each
other, and trying to be brave. But the snow was
piling into such drifts against the shore that it
was scarcely possible for them to win through.
“Don’t know but we’ll have to strike out on
to the clearer ice again, sir,” suggested Dan to
Mr. Kimball.
“Where’d you find a piece of cleared ice—unless
you cleared it yourself?” grumbled the
sheriff. “This is a nice mess!”
“It’s tough on the team,” admitted Dan. “But
I reckon we’ll pull through after a fashion.”
.bn 192.png
.pn +1
“I admire your pluck, lad,” grunted the sheriff.
“And it’s one o’clock right now!”
“Then we ought to be somewhere near old
John’s. He can’t be very far ahead——There!
isn’t that a light?”
“Where?” exclaimed the sheriff, excitedly.
“Dead ahead. Don’t you see? It’s moving!
I believe that’s the little searchlight we rigged on
Bromley’s wharf. Yes, sir! The good old fellow!
He’s hoping we will see it—Billy and I—and
be able to get back in the iceboat.”
“Iceboat!” snorted the sheriff. “You’ve a
fat chance of ever seeing your iceboat tied
up at this dock again until the snow goes
away.”
“Well, now!” exclaimed Dan, with some emphasis.
“You just watch. Billy and I don’t
propose to let our Follow Me lie out there
on the river for very long. We’re going to win
the races next week in that boat, and don’t you
forget it!”
“I wish I had your hope, boy,” grunted the
county officer. “Come up, Dandy! What’s the
matter with you, Poke?”
It was the light on Bromley’s dock. The old
boatman had recovered from the rough usage he
had received at the hands of the three robbers,
and was out on the watch for the Speedwell boys.
.bn 193.png
.pn +1
To say he was surprised at the appearance of
the procession is to but faintly express old John’s
emotions.
“Strike my colors!” he ejaculated. “This is
the beatenest thing I ever see. And I’d made up
my mind that Master Dan and Billy had got into
trouble this time for sure.”
“And you were quite right—we did,” admitted
Dan, tenderly arranging the bandages on his
wrists.
“And you got them sculpins?” said the boatman,
eyeing the three exhausted captives with
much disfavor. “Well! the rest of you pile into
my house an’ git warm. Let them fellers stay
out here and freeze a bit more.”
But he was not as bad as all that. Old John
opened the fishhouse and built a fire in the little
stove there, and soon the three prisoners were
getting warm, too.
Mr. Parker telephoned to his home and to Dr.
Kent’s and so relieved the anxiety of the girls’
mothers. Dan called up his own house and
caught his father just before he started for the
barn to get the milk truck ready.
“Though, in this storm, it is lucky if we get
around. I shall take Bob and Betty, rather than
the motor truck,” said Mr. Speedwell. “Your
mother says to bring that poor boy home with
you. We must look after him.”
.bn 194.png
.pn +1
“And I tell you,” said the enthusiastic Billy,
to Mildred and Lettie, “Dummy is going to ‘get
in good’—don’t you forget that! Sheriff Kimball
says there will be several hundred dollars
coming to him.”
“If there’s any chance of a doctor’s helping
him your father will know, Mildred,” said Dan.
“Make him promise to come out and see Dummy
just as soon as he can.”
“I will,” Mildred declared. “He is a real
nice boy, I think. And if he learns to talk and
goes to school——”
“Oh, he’ll do all of that!” promised Dan.
“We’ll see to it, Billy and I.”
“Do see that he gets a new name—or a better
one, at least,” suggested Lettie Parker. “Anybody
would be handicapped with such a nickname
as he has had.”
.bn 195.png
.pn +1
//.pm chap XXIV "“IT’S A RINGER!”"
.pb
.sp 4
.h2 nobreak id=chapXXIV
CHAPTER XXIV
.ce
“IT’S A RINGER!”
.sp 2
It was proved that the nephew of the wild
Harry Biggin had a proper name of his own.
His unfortunate and ignorant parents had never
allowed a doctor to see the boy when he was
small, or the discovery that Dr. Kent made as
soon as he examined the patient would have resulted
in a simple operation and a change for
the better in the boy’s speech.
He had been properly named Albert Biggin.
He was not at all a backward boy, save in speech.
And he showed his gratitude to the Speedwells
in every way possible.
The doctor kindly went with him to the hospital
at Compton, and aided in the operation that
gave Bert Biggin the proper use of his tongue.
Afterward, when the wound was well, he returned
to the Speedwell farm, and there went to work
cheerfully to repay the boys and their parents
for their kindness to him.
He was to make his home with them, and the
sheriff put the part of the reward offered for the
recovery of the “treasure box,” which rightfully
belonged to “Dummy,” into the bank in his
name.
.bn 196.png
.pn +1
The three fellows who were captured later were
punished by the law for their work. Out of the
adventure in the blizzard a number of good
things sprang.
But this is somewhat ahead of our story. The
morning after the great snowstorm was a busy
time for Dan and Billy Speedwell. Although
the storm ceased and the sun broke through the
clouds, they were worried about the motor iceboat
that the robbers had abandoned up the
river. Before noon the brothers, with their new
chum, started up the river road on the lookout
for the lost boat.
“It’s all right to have the Fly-up-the-Creek
over there at Island Number One. We know
where she is,” said Billy. “But if any of the
fellows got hold of the other——”
“Barrington Spink, for instance?” suggested
Dan.
“Crickey, Dan! I believe he found those plans
of yours. Jim Stetson declares that Barry and
that mechanic of his are building a regular wonder
of an iceboat. He’s going to call it the
Streak o’ Light.”
“Well, we can’t help that,” returned his
brother, gruffly. “If he beats us, he beats us!
That’s all there is to it.”
.bn 197.png
.pn +1
“But it isn’t fair if he has based his construction
on your invention.”
“Humph!” grunted Dan. “I won’t be the
first inventor who has been beaten out of his
rights; will I?”
They spied the mast of the motor iceboat after
a long tramp. She was nearly a mile from the
bank of the river.
They hired a pair of horses from the neighboring
farmer, and got down on the ice and out to
the stranded boat.
“Won’t be much more iceboating on the Colasha
this winter if this snow remains,” Billy declared.
“Don’t you be too sure of that,” returned
Dan. “If there comes a slight thaw, and then
she freezes——Wow!”
“My goodness me!” gasped Billy, seeing the
prospect at once. “Then she’ll be all ‘thank-you-ma’ams’
and the boats will bound like rubber
balls. Say! if that happens there’s bound to
be some fun.”
They dug the Follow Me out of the snowdrift,
and dragged her ashore after taking down the
mast and stowing the frozen sail. The motor and
engine had not been hurt as far as the boys could
see.
.bn 198.png
.pn +1
They dragged the iceboat back to John Bromley’s
dock on a sledge, and by that time it was
dark. One of the boys stayed with Bromley
each night after that until the day of the races.
For the regatta, so long looked forward to,
was held on the date appointed. On Christmas
night there was a rise in the temperature and a
gentle rain. In the morning around went the
wind again to the northwest, and the mercury
went down to almost the zero mark. The snow-covered
river was a glare of icy crust.
The boats were soon out in full force, although
the skating was not good. For the first time the
boys learned just what it meant to maneuver an
iceboat on a rough surface.
Dan and Billy, with the help of Bert Biggin,
dug out the Fly-up-the-Creek on the shore of Island
Number One, and took the girls to Karnac
Lake the day before the regatta.
Mildred and Lettie had enjoyed the sport before;
but although the breeze was light, the big
iceboat got under great headway coming home,
and when she leaped from the summit of a particularly
big hummock of snow-ice, and did not
touch a runner to the surface for forty feet, the
girls thought they had come as near to flying as
they ever wished to.
“And do you mean to say you believe you can
get greater speed out of your new boat than this,
Dannie?” panted Lettie Parker. “Why! I can’t
believe it.”
.bn 199.png
.pn +1
“To-morrow will tell the story,” returned Dan,
grimly.
“The boys say that Streak o’ Light Barry
Spink has built is just a wonder,” said Mildred,
anxiously.
“Well, of course,” returned Dan, seriously,
“I can’t tell what Barry has built. But it’s got
to be a good one to beat our Follow Me, now
that we have overhauled her and adjusted her
again—eh, Billy?”
“Believe me!” agreed his enthusiastic brother,
“it’s some boat, girls. Wait till you see it.”
The Speedwell boys sailed their new invention
down to the Boat Club Cove the morning of the
regatta, using only her canvas. Barrington Spink
and his foreign looking mechanic were running
the new boat Spink had built all about the cove
to show her paces, using, of course, only the
motor. She did not go so very fast, but the
owners of ordinary iceboats looked on the Streak
o’ Light with envy.
“Say!” grunted Monroe Stevens; “we haven’t
the ghost of a show with that thing. And Mr.
Darringford’s got a power boat, too. What have
you got under that canvas, Dan?”
“Never mind,” said the older Speedwell boy.
“We’ll show our engine after the races—not
before.”
.bn 200.png
.pn +1
But the brothers went over to Spink’s boat and
examined it. Barry seemed very nervous and eyed
the Speedwells askance while Dan was closely
examining the mechanism that drove the Streak
o’ Light.
“What do you think of it, Dan?” asked Mr.
Darringford, who was standing near.
“I—don’t—know,” returned the boy, and
backed away from the machine. Billy followed
him, his face red and his hands clenched.
“It’s a ringer! It’s a ringer!” the younger
boy declared, hotly. “He stole those plans——”
“He merely found them on the ice and picked
them up,” put in Dan, quietly.
“And made use of them!” ejaculated Billy,
almost choked for speech in his anger.
“Yes,” observed Dan, slowly. “He seems to
have made some use of the idea.”
“And if he beats us, it will be because of our
plans—your invention, Dan!”
“Hold on! don’t blow up!” warned Dan.
“The race isn’t run yet.”
“And if it is——”
“He’s got to show he knows how to run his
boat better than we run ours; hasn’t he?” Dan
demanded. “Keep your shirt on, Billy.”
Thus admonished, the younger Speedwell kept
silent. Barry Spink raced his White Albatross
in the early races, and he actually won two of the
short ones.
.bn 201.png
.pn +1
“That chap thinks he’s going to sweep the
whole river,” growled Biff Hardy. “He’s sent
up to Appleyard’s for a broom and is going to
tie it to his masthead.”
“Oh, Dan! is he really going to beat everybody—win
everything?” cried Mildred Kent.
“Wait,” advised Speedwell. “These are only
play races. There’s only one real trial of speed
to-day; and the Follow Me is going to be in that,”
and he laughed.
But Billy didn’t feel like laughing at all. He
didn’t have much share of Dan’s courage.
.bn 202.png
.pn +1
//.pm chap XXV "BEATING THE “STREAK O’ LIGHT”"
.pb
.sp 4
.h2 nobreak id=chapXXV
CHAPTER XXV
.ce
BEATING THE “STREAK O’ LIGHT”
.sp 2
The race Dan referred to was the actual trial
of the big craft, and those rigged with motors.
The course was to Karnac Lake and return. If
the wind held light and fair it was anybody’s
race; if it fell calm, undoubtedly the motor iceboats
would have an advantage. If the wind increased
to a gale there was no knowing who
would be the successful one.
Since the big snow nobody knew the course
well. The river’s surface was like a rolling plain—a
prairie. There was known to be no open
water; but otherwise the course was uncertain.
There were five starters. Monroe Stevens
would not race his Redbird, nor did the Curlew
start. The Speedwells’, Barry Spink’s, Mr. Darringford’s
Betty B., an entry from Meadville, and
one from Barrington, made up the “card.”
It was a long course, and it called for very
good handling to go straight up the river, turn,
and make the downward course in any sort of
time. The five boats drifted out of the cove
under sail and got in some sort of a line so that
the referee could start them.
.bn 203.png
.pn +1
At once Spink’s mechanic started his engine;
but the motors on the Betty B. and on the Speedwell
craft remained silent. The signal was given
and they all got off in some sort of time.
The Speedwells paid strict attention to their
own work, and did not watch their rivals. If one
is going to race, the way to do so is to attend
strictly to one’s own business.
Dan and Billy knew that there was one bad
obstacle—the Long Bridge. Although the masts
all cleared the under-timbers of the high structure,
the canvas was almost sure to lose the wind while
going under.
Spink had gone at it just as he went at everything—with
marvelous confidence. With motor
sputtering and his big sail, bellied full, he shot
ahead of the other four boats in the race and was
quickly at the Long Bridge.
Here he had to drop the sail, for it interfered
with the Streak o’ Light getting through. His
motor coughed and the iceboat went ahead jerkily
enough.
Dan and Billy had taken a rather long shoot
to windward; now the Follow Me came up to the
bridge on the other tack, and Dan started the
motor just before his sail began to shake.
.bn 204.png
.pn +1
The momentum they had gathered carried the
boat under the structure. At once the sail filled
on the upper side, and the Follow Me proved her
name to be good. She led the five iceboats, and
the crowd of spectators that crowded the bridge
cheered the Speedwell boys as their craft darted
up the river.
It was not until then that she began to really
move.
The boys had sailed pretty fast in her before.
But now the whole stretch of the river lay before
her. There was nothing in the way, and the wind
was fair. Under the pressure of both wind and
claw-wheel under the main beam, she hit only the
high places, as Billy declared.
Dan tried to steer clear of the higher drifts;
but sometimes she would run up the long slope
of a hummock and shoot right out into the air.
Those on shore could see the daylight between
the runners of the Follow Me and the crust of
ice.
At such times Dan was glad he had rigged his
sprocket wheel so that he could raise her. The
motor raced, but the moment the runners connected
with the ice again, Dan drove the wheel
down and the added impetus of the whirling
claws aided in the speed of the boat.
Billy hung to the end of the crossbeam and
laughed back at the other boats. He could afford
to. Even Barry Spink’s wonderful craft
.bn 205.png
.pn +1
was being left behind. Before they passed the
end of Island Number One, the Follow Me was
a mile and more in the lead.
And the boys kept this lead for the entire
distance to Karnac Lake. When they turned the
stake and started to beat back, the pace was more
moderate. But here was where Dan’s invention
“made good.”
The wind was against them. To tack from
side to side of the river as the sailboats did was
to lose precious time. They furled the sail, unstepped
the mast, and speeded up the engines of
the Follow Me.
The machinery worked splendidly. Sometimes,
when there was a catspaw of good wind, one or
another of the other contestants would get somewhere
near Dan and Billy; but the moment the
wind shifted, or died down, the motor iceboat
scurried ahead.
They never saw Spink’s boat after passing her
at Karnac Lake. Mr. Darringford’s Betty B.
clung to the Follow Me for a long while; but
finally she fell back. The boys were far, far
ahead when they came down to the Long Bridge
again.
In spite of the extreme cold, there was a goodly
crowd to greet them. The Academy boys and
girls “rooted” loudly for the brothers and their
craft. The Follow Me slid under the bridge and
.bn 206.png
.pn +1
so down to the starting point amid the plaudits
of half of Riverdale and, as Billy said, “a good
sprinkling of the rest of the county.”
Mr. Darringford, when he came in, a poor
second, wanted to make a thorough examination
of Dan’s invention, and the boys were glad to
have him do so. He at once advised Dan to
cover his ingenious work with a patent, and helped
the boy do this at once.
“For people are bound to see and steal your
idea,” said the gentleman, convinced that young
Speedwell was quite a genius in mechanics.
“Huh! they’ve done that already—but it
didn’t help ’em much,” scoffed Billy.
“You mean that Spink and his foreigner?”
asked Mr. Darringford, with a queer little smile.
“Yes. He stole those plans from Dan.”
Mr. Darringford looked at the older Speedwell
and smiled again. “I guess you saw what
he did?” he said. “I can see that he tried to
steal your idea; but he seems to have got it hind-end
foremost—eh?”
“That’s what I noticed,” laughed Dan. “So
I wasn’t much afraid of his beating us out.”
The story of what Barry Spink had done, and
how he had overreached himself, leaked out, and
the boys and girls of Riverdale fairly laughed
the fellow out of town. Barry never entered the
Riverdale Academy; but Bert Biggin did.
.bn 207.png
.pn +1
And Bert proved himself to be a pretty smart
fellow, despite the nickname of “Dummy” that
had clung to him for so many years.
That winter on the Colasha may never be repeated;
but while the ice lasted, Dan and Billy,
with their friends, managed to enjoy every hour
they could get upon the frozen surface of the
stream.
And none of those who bore a part in the incident
will forget how they were lost in the great
blizzard.
.sp 2
.ce
THE END
.pb
.bn 208.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.nf c
THE SADDLE BOYS SERIES
By CAPTAIN JAMES CARSON
12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 50 cents, postpaid.
.nf-
.hr 10%
All lads who love life in the open air and a good steed,
will want to peruse these books. Captain Carson knows his
subject thoroughly, and his stories are as pleasing as they are
healthful and instructive.
.sp
.pm illustnocap ad01 p_208.jpg 270
.sp
.ce 2
THE SADDLE BOYS OF THE ROCKIES
or Lost on Thunder Mountain
Telling how the lads started out to solve
the mystery of a great noise in the mountains—how
they got lost—and of the things
they discovered.
.sp
.ce 2
THE SADDLE BOYS IN THE GRAND CANYON
or The Hermit of the Cave
A weird and wonderful story of the Grand
Canyon of the Colorado, told in a most absorbing
manner. The Saddle Boys are to the front in a
manner to please all young readers.
.sp
.ce 2
THE SADDLE BOYS ON THE PLAINS
or After a Treasure of Gold
In this story the scene is shifted to the great plains of the
southwest and then to the Mexican border. There is a stirring
struggle for gold, told as only Captain Carson can tell it.
.sp
.ce 2
THE SADDLE BOYS AT CIRCLE RANCH
or In at the Grand Round-up
Here we have lively times at the ranch, and likewise the
particulars of a grand round-up of cattle and encounters with
wild animals and also cattle thieves. A story that breathes
the very air of the plains.
.sp
.ce 2
THE SADDLE BOYS ON MEXICAN TRAILS
or In the Hands of the Enemy
The scene is shifted in this volume to Mexico. The boys
go on an important errand, and are caught between the lines
of the Mexican soldiers. They are captured and for a while
things look black for them; but all ends happily.
.sp
.hr 80%
.ce
CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, NEW YORK
.pb
.bn 209.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.nf c
THE WEBSTER SERIES
By FRANK V. WEBSTER
.nf-
.hr 80%
.sp
.pm illustnocap ad02 p_209.jpg 270
.sp
.nf c
Mr. WEBSTER’S style is very much like
that of the boys’ favorite author, the late
lamented Horatio Alger, Jr., but his tales
are thoroughly up-to-date.
Cloth. 12mo. Over 200 pages each. Illustrated.
Stamped in various colors.
Price per volume, 50 cents, postpaid.
.nf-
.sp
.nf b
Only A Farm Boy
\ \ or The Hardy’s Rise in Life
The Boy From The Ranch
\ \ or Roy Bradner’s City Experiences
The Young Treasure Hunter
\ \ or Fred Stanley’s Trip to Alaska
The Boy Pilot of the Lakes
\ \ or Nat Morton’s Perils
Tom The Telephone Boy
\ \ or The Mystery of a Message
Bob The Castaway
\ \ or The Wreck of the Eagle
The Newsboy Partners
\ \ or Who Was Dick Box?
Two Boy Gold Miners
\ \ or Lost in the Mountains
The Young Firemen of Lakeville
\ \ or Herbert Dare’s Pluck
The Boys of Bellwood School
\ \ or Frank Jordan’s Triumph
Jack the Runaway
\ \ or On the Road with a Circus
Bob Chester’s Grit
\ \ or From Ranch to Riches
Airship Andy
\ \ or The Luck of a Brave Boy
High School Rivals
\ \ or Fred Markham’s Struggles
Derry The Life Saver
\ \ or The Heroes of the Coast
Dick The Bank Boy
\ \ or A Missing Fortune
Ben Hardy’s Flying Machine
\ \ or Making a Record for Himself
Harry Watson’s High School Days
\ \ or The Rivals of Rivertown
Comrades of the Saddle
\ \ or The Young Rough Riders of the Plains
Tom Taylor at West Point
\ \ or The Old Army Officer’s Secret
The Boy Scouts of Lennox
\ \ or Hiking Over Big Bear Mountain
The Boys of the Wireless
\ \ or a Stirring Rescue from the Deep
Cowboy Dave
\ \ or The Round-up at Rolling River
Jack of the Pony Express
\ \ or The Young Rider of the Mountain Trail
The Boys of the Battleship
\ \ or For the Honor of Uncle Sam
.nf-
.sp
.hr 80%
.ce
CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, NEW YORK
.pb
.bn 210.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.nf c
THE KHAKI BOYS SERIES
BY CAPT. GORDON BATES
12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full color.
Price per volume, 50 cents, postpaid.
All who love the experiences and adventures
of our American boys, fighting for the
freedom of democracy in the world, will be
delighted with these vivid and true-to-life
stories of the camp and field in the great
war.
.nf-
.sp
.pm illustnocap ad03 p_210.jpg 270
.sp
.ce 2
THE KHAKI BOYS AT CAMP STERLING
\ \ or Training for the Big Fight in France
.sp
Two zealous young patriots volunteer and
begin their military training. On the train
going to camp they meet two rookies with
whom they become chums. Together they
get into a baffling camp mystery that develops
into an extraordinary spy-plot. They defeat the enemies
of their country and incidentally help one another to
promotion both in friendship and service.
.sp
.ce 2
THE KHAKI BOYS ON THE WAY
\ \ or Doing Their Bit on Sea and Land
.sp
Our soldier boys having completed their training at Camp Sterling
are transferred to a Southern cantonment from which they
are finally sent aboard a troop-ship for France. On the trip
their ship is sunk by a U-boat and their adventures are
realistic descriptions of the tragedies of the sea.
.sp
.ce 2
THE KHAKI BOYS AT THE FRONT
\ \ or Shoulder to Shoulder in the Trenches
.sp
The Khaki Boys reach France, and, after some intensive training
in sound of the battle front, are sent into the trenches. In
the raids across No-Man’s land, they have numerous tragic adventures
that show what great work is being performed by our
soldiers. It shows what makes heroes.
.sp
.ce
Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue.
.hr 80%
.sp
.ce
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers, New York
.pb
.bn 211.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.nf c
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS
SERIES
BY ROY ROCKWOOD
.sp
Author of “The Dave Dashaway Series,” “Great Marvel Series,” etc.
12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 50 cents, postpaid.
.nf-
.hr 20%
.sp
All boys who love to be on the go will welcome the Speedwell
boys. They are clean cut and loyal lads.
.sp
.pm illustnocap ad04 p_211.jpg 270
.sp
.ce 2
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS ON MOTOR CYCLES
or The Mystery of a Great Conflagration
The lads were poor, but they did a rich
man a great service and he presented them
with their motor cycles. What a great fire
led to is exceedingly well told.
.sp
.ce 2
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS AND THEIR RACING AUTO
or A Run for the Golden Cup
A tale of automobiling and of intense rivalry on the road.
There was an endurance run and the boys entered the contest.
On the run they rounded up some men who were wanted by
the law.
.sp
.ce 2
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS AND THEIR POWER LAUNCH
or To the Rescue of the Castaways
Here is an unusual story. There was a wreck, and the lads,
in their power launch, set out to the rescue. A vivid picture
of a great storm adds to the interest of the tale.
.sp
.ce 2
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS IN A SUBMARINE
or The Lost Treasure of Rocky Cave
An old sailor knows of a treasure lost under water because
of a cliff falling into the sea. The boys get a chance to go
out in a submarine and they make a hunt for the treasure.
.sp
.ce 2
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS AND THEIR ICE RACER
or The Perils of a Great Blizzard
The boys had an idea for a new sort of iceboat, to be run
by combined wind and motor power. How they built the craft,
and what fine times they had on board of it, is well related.
.sp
.hr 80%
.ce
CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, NEW YORK
.pb
.bn 212.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.ce 3
THE RUTH FIELDING SERIES
BY ALICE B. EMERSON
12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 50 cents, postpaid.
.sp
.pm illustnocap ad05 p_212.jpg 270
.sp
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Ruth Fielding was an orphan and
came to live with her miserly uncle. Her
adventures and travels make stories that
will hold the interest of every reader.
.nf-
.in +12
.nf b
RUTH FIELDING OF THE RED MILL
\ \ or Jasper Parloe’s Secret
RUTH FIELDING AT BRIARWOOD HALL
\ \ or Solving the Campus Mystery
RUTH FIELDING AT SNOW CAMP
\ \ or Lost in the Backwoods
RUTH FIELDING AT LIGHTHOUSE POINT
\ \ or Nita, the Girl Castaway
RUTH FIELDING AT SILVER RANCH
\ \ or Schoolgirls Among the Cowboys
RUTH FIELDING ON CLIFF ISLAND
\ \ or The Old Hunter’s Treasure Box
RUTH FIELDING AT SUNRISE FARM
\ \ or What Became of the Raby Orphans
RUTH FIELDING AND THE GYPSIES
\ \ or The Missing Pearl Necklace
RUTH FIELDING IN MOVING PICTURES
\ \ or Helping the Dormitory Fund
RUTH FIELDING DOWN IN DIXIE
\ \ or Great Days in the Land of Cotton
RUTH FIELDING AT COLLEGE
\ \ or The Missing Examination Papers
RUTH FIELDING IN THE SADDLE
\ \ or College Girls in the Land of Gold
RUTH FIELDING IN THE RED CROSS (New)
\ \ or Doing Her Bit for Uncle Sam
RUTH FIELDING AT THE WAR FRONT (New)
\ \ or The Hunt for a Lost Soldier
.nf-
.in
.sp
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.hr 80%
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CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers, New York
.pb
.bn 213.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.nf c
THE MOTOR BOYS SERIES
BY CLARENCE YOUNG
12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 75c, postpaid.
.nf-
.sp
.pm illustnocap ad06 p_213.jpg 270
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.nf b
The Motor Boys
\ \ or Chums Through Thick and Thin
The Motor Boys Overland
\ \ or A Long Trip for Fun and Fortune
The Motor Boys In Mexico
\ \ or The Secret of The Buried City
The Motor Boys Across the Plains
\ \ or The Hermit of Lost Lake
The Motor Boys Afloat
\ \ or The Cruise of the Dartaway
The Motor Boys on the Atlantic
\ \ or The Mystery of the Lighthouse
The Motor Boys In Strange Waters
\ \ or Lost in a Floating Forest
The Motor Boys on the Pacific
\ \ or The Young Derelict Hunters
The Motor Boys In the Clouds
\ \ or A Trip for Fame and Fortune
The Motor Boys Over the Rockies
\ \ or A Mystery of the Air
The Motor Boys Over the Ocean
\ \ or A Marvelous Rescue in Mid-Air
The Motor Boys on the Wing
\ \ or Seeking the Airship Treasure
The Motor Boys After a Fortune
\ \ or The Hut on Snake Island
The Motor Boys on the Border
\ \ or Sixty Nuggets of Gold
The Motor Boys Under the Sea
\ \ or From Airship to Submarine
The Motor Boys on Road and River
\ \ or Racing to Save a Life
.nf-
.ce 2
THE MOTOR BOYS SECOND SERIES
BY CLARENCE YOUNG
.nf b
Ned, Bob and Jerry at Boxwood Hall
\ \ or The Motor Boys as Freshmen
Ned, Bob and Jerry on a Ranch
\ \ or The Motor Boys Among the Cowboys
Ned, Bob and Jerry at College (New)
\ \ or The Motor Boys and Their Rivals
.nf-
.hr 80%
.ce
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers, New York
.pb
.bn 214.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.ce 3
THE BASEBALL JOE SERIES
BY LESTER CHADWICK
12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 75 cents, postpaid.
.sp
.pm illustnocap ad07 p_214.jpg 270
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BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS
\ \ or The Rivals of Riverside
Joe is an everyday country boy who loves
to play baseball and particularly to pitch.
.sp
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BASEBALL JOE ON THE SCHOOL NINE
\ \ or Pitching for the Blue Banner
Joe’s great ambition was to go to boarding
school and play on the school team.
.sp
.ce 2
BASEBALL JOE AT YALE
\ \ or Pitching for the College Championship
Joe goes to Yale University. In his second year he becomes a
varsity pitcher and pitches in several big games.
.sp
.ce 2
BASEBALL JOE IN THE CENTRAL LEAGUE
\ \ or Making Good as a Professional Pitcher
In this volume the scene of action is shifted from Yale
college to a baseball league of our central states.
.sp
.ce 2
BASEBALL JOE IN THE BIG LEAGUE
\ \ or A Young Pitcher’s Hardest Struggles
>From the Central League Joe is drafted into the St. Louis
Nationals. A corking baseball story all fans will enjoy.
.sp
.ce 2
BASEBALL JOE ON THE GIANTS
\ \ or Making Good as a Twirler in the Metropolis
How Joe was traded to the Giants and became their mainstay
in the box makes an interesting baseball story.
.sp
.ce 2
BASEBALL JOE IN THE WORLD SERIES
\ \ or Pitching for the Championship
The rivalry was of course of the keenest, and what Joe did to
win the series is told in a manner to thrill the most jaded reader.
.sp
.ce 2
BASEBALL JOE AROUND THE WORLD (New)
\ \ or Pitching on a Grand Tour
The Giants and the All-Americans tour the world, playing in
many foreign countries.
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.sp 4
.ce 5
THE CURLYTOPS SERIES
BY HOWARD R. GARIS
Author of the famous “Bedtime Animal Stories”
12mo. Cloth. Beautifully Illustrated. Jacket in full color.
Price per volume, 50 cents, net
.sp
Splendid stories for the little girls and
boys, told by one who is a past master in
the art of entertaining young people.
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.pm illustnocap ad08 p_215.jpg 270
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THE CURLYTOPS AT CHERRY FARM
\ \ or Vacation Days in the Country
A tale of happy vacation days on a farm.
The Curlytops have many exciting adventures.
.sp
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THE CURLYTOPS ON STAR ISLAND
\ \ or Camping out with Grandpa
The Curlytops were delighted when grandpa took them to camp
on Star Island. There they had great fun and also helped to
solve a real mystery.
.sp
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THE CURLYTOPS SNOWED IN
\ \ or Grand Fun with Skates and Sleds
Winter was a jolly time for the Curlytops, with their skates
and sleds, but when later they were snowed in they found many
new ways to enjoy themselves.
.sp
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THE CURLYTOPS AT UNCLE FRANK’S RANCH
\ \ or Little Folks on Pony Back
Out West on their uncle’s ranch they have a wonderful time
among the cowboys and on pony back.
.sp
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.pn +1
.sp 4
.nf c
THE PATSY CARROLL SERIES
BY GRACE GORDON
12mo. Illustrated. Beautiful cloth binding, stamped in gold with
cover inlay and jacket in colors.
Price Per Volume $1.25 Net.
.nf-
.sp
This fascinating series is permeated with
the vibrant atmosphere of the great outdoors.
The vacations spent by Patsy Carroll
and her chums, the girl Wayfarers, in
the north, east, south and west of the wonderland
of our country, comprise a succession
of tales unsurpassed in plot and action.
.sp
.pm illustnocap ad09 p_216.jpg 270
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PATSY CARROLL AT WILDERNESS LODGE
Patsy Carroll succeeds in coaxing her father to lease one of
the luxurious camps at Lake Placid, in the Adirondack Mountains,
for the summer. Once established at Wilderness Lodge,
the Wayfarers, as they have decided to call themselves, find they
are the center of a mystery which revolves about a missing will.
How the girls solve the mystery makes a splendid story.
.sp
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PATSY CARROLL UNDER SOUTHERN SKIES (New)
Patsy Carroll and her three chums spend their Easter vacation
in an old mansion in Florida, where an exciting mystery develops,
which is solved by a very curious acrostic found by Patsy, and
which leads to very exciting and satisfactory results, making a
capital story.
.sp
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.pb
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.pn +1
.sp 4
.nf c
THE JANE ALLEN COLLEGE
SERIES
BY EDITH BANCROFT
12mo. Illustrated. Beautiful cloth binding, stamped in gold with
cover inlay and jacket in colors.
Price Per Volume $1.25 Net.
.nf-
This series is a decided departure from
the stories usually written of life in the
modern college for young women. They
contain a deep and fascinating theme, which
has to do with the inner struggle for
growth. An authoritative account of the
life of the college girl as it is lived to-day.
.sp
.pm illustnocap ad10 p_217.jpg 270
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JANE ALLEN OF THE SUB TEAM
When Jane Allen left her beautiful Western home in Montana,
sorely against her will, to go East, there to become a freshman
at Wellington College, she was sure that she could never learn to
endure the restrictions of college life. But she did and the account
of Jane’s first year at Wellington is well worth reading.
.sp
.ce
JANE ALLEN: RIGHT GUARD (New)
Jane Allen becomes a sophomore at Wellington College, but
she has to face a severe trial that requires all her courage and
character. The meaning of true soul-nobility is brought out in
the development of the trying experience. The result is a triumph
for being faithful to an ideal.
.sp
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.sp
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CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers, New York
.pb
.ni
.sp 4
.in +4
.ce
Transcriber’s Notes:
.if h
The cover image has been created by the transcriber and
is placed in the public domain.
.sp
.if-
.if t
Italicized phrases are presented by surrounding the text with _underscores_.
Boldface phrases are presented by surrounding the text with equal signs.
Small capitals have been rendered in full capitals.
.sp
.if-
Minor spelling, punctuation and typographic errors were corrected silently,
except as noted below.
.sp
On page 36, changed "Bromely" to "Bromley" to be consistent
with other instances of that name in the book.
.sp
On page 44, removed sentence break hyphenation from
"star-lit", based on usage frequency of "star-lit" and "starlit"
during 1900-1920 period.
.sp
On page 102, "to" was inserted into the sentence,
"“What’s happened him now?” asked Dan."
.sp
In the ad pages, the publishers line at the bottom of each page
has been normalized with respect to the comma after the
word "Publishers".
.in