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  CHAPTER XII

  THE ICEBOAT SQUADRON

  At exactly ten o'clock, on Monday morning, December 26th, Bobolinksounded the "Assembly" on his bugle. A great crowd had gathered on thebank of the frozen Bushkill. For the most part this was made up ofboys and girls, but there were in addition a few parents who wanted tosee the start of the scouts for their midwinter camp.

  Up to this time their outings had taken place in a more genial periodof the year, and not a few witnessed their departure with feelings ofuneasiness. This winter had already proved its title to the stormiestknown in a quarter of a century, and at the last hour more than oneparent questioned the wisdom of allowing the boys to take the boldtour.

  However, there were no "recalls," and as for the ten lads themselves,to look at their eager faces it could be seen that they entertained nodoubts regarding their ability to cope with whatever situationsarose.

  The five iceboats were in line, and could be compared with so manyfleet race horses fretting to make a speedy start. Each had variousmysterious packages fastened securely, leaving scanty room for thepair of "trippers."

  "After all we're going to have a fine day of it," remarked Tom Betts,as he gave a last look to the running gear of his new ice craft, andimpatiently waited for Paul to give the word to be off.

  "Luck seems to be with us in the start," admitted Bobolink, who wasnext in line. "I only hope it won't change and slap us too hard afterwe get up there in the woods."

  "I heard this morning that the Lawson crowd had started overland, withpacks on their backs," Phil Towns stated.

  "Oh! we're bound to rub up against that lot before we're done withit," prophesied Bobolink. "But if they give us any trouble I miss myguess if they won't be sorry for it."

  "Scouts can take a heap," said Tom, "but there is a limit to theirforbearance; and once they set out to inflict proper punishment theyknow how to rub it in good and hard."

  "Do you really believe there's any truth in that report we heard aboutMr. Briggs' safe being found broken open and cleaned out?" askedPhil.

  "There's no question about it," replied Bobolink. "Though between youand me I don't think the robbers got much of a haul, for the old manis too wise to keep much money around."

  "I heard that Hank Lawson and his crowd were spending money prettyfreely when they got ready early this morning to start," suggestedTom.

  Jack, who had listened to all this talk, took occasion to warn hisfellow-scouts, just as Paul had done on the other occasion.

  "Better not say that again, Tom, because we have no means of knowinghow they got the money. Some of them are often supplied with largeramounts than seem to be good for them. Unless you know positively,don't start the snowball rolling downhill, because it keeps on growinglarger every time some one tells the story."

  "All right, Jack," remarked Tom, cheerfully; "what you say goes.Besides, as we expect to be away a couple of weeks there isn't goingto be much chance to tell tales in Stanhope."

  They waited impatiently for the word to go. Paul was making a lastround in order to be sure that nothing had been overlooked, forcaution was strongly developed in his character, as well as boldness.

  There were many long faces among the other boys belonging to StanhopeTroop, for they would have liked above all things to be able toaccompany their lucky comrades. The lure of the open woods had agreat attraction for them, and on previous outings every one hadenjoyed such glorious times that now all felt as though they weremissing a grand treat.

  At last Paul felt that nothing else remained to be done, and that hecould get his expedition under way without any scruple. There weremany skaters on the river, but a clear passage down-stream had beenmade for the start of the iceboat squadron.

  A few of the strongest skaters had gone on ahead half an hour back,intending to accompany the adventurous ten a portion of the way. Theyhoped to reach the point where the old canal connected the Bushkillriver with the Radway, and a long time back known as Jackson's Creek.

  Here they would await the coming of the fleet iceboats, and lend whatassistance was required in making the passage of this crookedwaterway.

  When once again the bugle sounded the cheering became more violentthan ever, for it was known that the moment of departure had arrived.

  Tom Betts had been given the honor of being the first in theprocession. His fellow passenger was Jack Stormways. As the new_Speedaway_ shot from its mooring place and started down the river itseemed as though the old football days had come again, such a roararose from human lungs, fish-horns, and every conceivable means formaking a racket.

  A second craft quickly followed in the wake of the leader, then athird, the two others trailing after, until all of them were headingdown-stream, rapidly leaving Stanhope behind.

  The cheering of the throng grew fainter as the speedy craft glidedover the ice, urged on by a fair wind. There could be little doubtthat the ten scouts who were undertaking the expedition were fullyalive to the good fortune that had come their way.

  Tom Betts was acknowledged to be the most skilful skipper, possiblybarring Paul, along the Bushkill. He seemed to know how to get thebest speed out of an iceboat, and at the same time avoid seriousaccidents, such as are likely to follow the reckless use of such frailcraft.

  It was thoughtful of Paul to let Tom lead the procession, when by allrights, as the scout-master, Paul might properly have assumed thatposition. Tom must have been considering this fact, for as he and Jackflew along, crouching under the big new sail that was drawingsplendidly, he called out to his comrade:

  "Let me tell you it was mighty white in Paul to assign me to thisberth, Jack, when by rights everybody expected him to lead off. Iappreciate it, too, I want you to understand."

  "Oh! that's just like Paul," he was told. "He always likes to makeother fellows feel good. And for a chap who unites so many rarequalities in his make-up Paul is the most unassuming fellow I everknew. Why, you can see that he intentionally put himself in lastplace, and picked out Spider Sexton's boat to go on, because he knewit was the poorest of the lot."

  "But all the same the old _Glider_ is doing her prettiest to-day andkeeping up with the procession all right," asserted Tom, glancingback.

  "That's because Paul's serving as skipper," asserted Jack, proudly."He could get speed out of any old tub you ever saw. But then we'renot trying to do any racing on this trip, you remember, Tom."

  "Not much," assented the other, quickly. "Paul impressed it on us thatto-day we must keep it in mind that 'safety first' is to be our motto.Besides, with all these bundles of grub and blankets and clothes-bagsstrapped and roped to our boats a fellow couldn't do himself justice,I reckon."

  "No more he could, Tom. But we're making good time for all that, andit isn't going to be long before we pass Manchester, and reach theplace where that old abandoned canal creeps across two miles ofcountry, more or less, to the Radway."

  "I can see the fellows who skated down ahead of us!" announced Tom,presently.

  "Yes, they're waiting to go through the canal with us," assented Jack."Wallace Carberry said they feared we might have a bad time of itgetting the iceboats over to the Radway, and he corralled a fewfellows with the idea of lending a hand."

  "They hate the worst kind to be left out of this camping game,"remarked Tom, "and want to see the last they can of us."

  A few minutes later and the skipper of the leading iceboat brought hisspeedy craft to a halt close to the shore, where several scoutsawaited them. The other four craft soon drew up near by, thusfinishing what they were pleased to call the "first leg" of the novelcruise.

  It was decided to work their way through the winding creek the bestway possible. In places it would be found advisable to push the boats,while now and then as an open stretch came along they might takeadvantage of a favorable wind to do a little sailing.

  Two miles of this sort of thing would not be so bad. As Bobolink sangout, the worst was yet to come when they made the Radway, and had toascend against a head wind
that would necessitate skilful tacking toavoid an overturn.