For the Honor of Randall Part 14

"Oh, forget it," urged Dutch, for that was a sore point with him yet, though it had happened some weeks before.

It was now several days since the rescue of the girls, and they had suffered no permanent ill effects from their break through the ice. Phil and his chums had seized on the excuse of asking about them, to pay several visits to Fairview, until Miss Philock, the aged preceptress "smelled a mouse," as Sid said, and curtailed the visits of all but Phil, who, by virtue of being a brother, was allowed to see Ruth for a few minutes.

"But what's the fun of going to see your own sister?" asked Phil.

"What indeed?" echoed the others, though some of them wished they were Phil.

And, as the days wore on the cold did not diminish, and the ice on the river held.

"A slim outlook for Spring games," growled Dutch, as he sat in the chums' room, vainly begging a suggestion for fun.

"Oh, well, warm weather will come, sooner or later," declared Tom with a yawn, flinging a book behind the ancient couch. "How are things working out?"

"Pretty good, I guess," replied Dutch. "Holly and Kindlings have charge of the arrangements. It's practically decided that we'll be one of a four-sided league. The only point is that of deciding what events to put on the program. Some want one, and some another."

"Think Randall has any chance?" asked Phil.

"Sure," declared Dutch. "Shambler is showing up well in the runs, and Frank here is jumping his head off, and going some with the shot and hammer. You fellows want to perk-up."

"Oh, there's time enough," remarked Tom. "So Shambler is doing good work; eh?"

"Fine. I didn't think he could. Some of the fellows seemed to think he had a yellow streak in him, but it isn't showing, and I don't believe it will."

And then, it came to Tom, more forcibly than ever, that Shambler did have a yellow streak in him--the yellow streak of cowardice.

"And if it comes out at the last minute, it will be bad for Randall,"

thought Tom. "But I promised to keep still, and I will. If anything happens--well, the rest of us will have to make it up, and cover it--for the honor of Randall."

"Oh I say. I can't stand this!" cried Dutch at length. "I'm getting the blues. Come on out, fellows. I've got a surprise for you. I've been holding it up my sleeve, thinking you'd suggest something, but, as long as you haven't, I'm going to spring something. Chuck the books!"

"What is it?" asked Sid, glancing up in antic.i.p.ation.

"Come on out on the river," urged Dutch. "It's early yet, and I guess Zane won't make a fuss if we ask him for a little time off. We're all standing well in cla.s.ses, thank fortune."

"The river!" yawned Frank. "I've had enough of skating for to-day."

"It isn't skating," declared Dutch. "Come on. I'll guarantee you a surprise and some fun, or you need never trust me again. It's a fine moonlight night--as nice as when we went coasting that time. Come on!"

"What's up?" demanded Tom. "No skylarking with the Spring exams so near."

"Nothing worse than usual," guaranteed Dutch. "Be sports, and come on before the wind dies out."

"Wind! Are you going to fly kites?" asked Sid.

"Something like it. Listen. A fellow up the river has built a home-made ice boat. I saw him at it when he started, and gave him a pointer or two."

"That's the first I knew you were an expert on ice boats," chimed in Phil.

"I'm not," admitted Dutch frankly, "but he thought I was, and it was all the same. He adopted my ideas, and the fun of it is that the boat goes like a charm. He said I could take it any night I wanted to, and I'm going to borrow it now. We'll have a sail under the moon, and blow some of the cobwebs out of our brain."

"Say, that's all to the ham sandwich!" cried Tom. "I'm with you."

"If Zane will let us go," added Sid.

The proctor, after a show of hesitation, yielded and soon the five students were walking along the edge of the frozen river.

The owner of the home-made ice yacht readily gave Dutch permission to use it, and soon the boys had slid it out on the frozen stream and prepared to hoist the sail.

"Do you know how to run it?" asked Tom of Dutch.

"Of course I do. Didn't I help build it? All you have to do is to hoist the sail and steer. You can't go wrong."

"All right, you do it then," directed Sid. "I'd be sure to have an upset."

"Oh, it's easy," boasted Dutch. "Pile on."

"Well, stop it. Wait for a fellow!" cried Phil, for the craft was even now moving slowly off before the breeze.

"Hop on!" ordered Dutch. "You can't stop this like an auto, you know.

Pile on while it's moving."

They managed to, somehow, and then, with Dutch at the helm, and to manage the sail, they darted off.

Now, if the truth is to be told, Dutch knew about as much of how to manage an ice boat as a Hottentot would about running a locomotive, but the Randallite was not going to admit that.

"I can sure sail up the river, for the wind is blowing that way," he reasoned with himself. "And if it doesn't switch around, and blow us back again, we can walk, and I'll tell the fellows something has busted."

Soon the ice boat began to move faster and faster.

"How's this?" demanded Dutch proudly.

"Fine!" cried Sid. "I never knew you could sail one of these things."

"Oh, I don't go about telling all I know," remarked Dutch modestly.

"How do you steer?" asked Tom.

"Same as in a sailboat," replied the helmsman. "When you want to go to the left you shove this handle over this way, and the opposite way to go to the right. See," and he moved the tiller to one side.

Instantly there was a mix-up, the boat suddenly overturned and five figures sprawled out on the ice, while the craft turned around as if on a point, the sail banging in the wind.

"Is--is that the way you always steer?" asked Phil sarcastically, "or was this just a special method, invented for our amus.e.m.e.nt?"

"This is his regular way," declared Tom, rubbing his elbows. "It must be."

"I--er--I turned too short," stammered Dutch. "I can do better next time. Let's right the boat."

"Don't have any 'next time,'" urged Frank. "Just sail straight away, if it's all the same to you. Hold on there!" he cried as the boat showed an inclination to go off by herself. "Whoa!"