“If you can find out what it is, my father will be grateful to you,” Barry assured him. “But I wouldn’t crash into the lodge, if I were in your place.”
“Don’t give me advice, Garrison! I don’t need any, and if I did, I wouldn’t come to you for it. You know that if I ever get a chance to square accounts with you, I’m going to!”
“You haven’t any account to square,” Barry returned levelly. “You just think you have. We’re not looking for any trouble with you, Wolf, and the farther you stay away from us, the better we’ll like it!”
“I think we ought to give you fellows a good beating,” cried Wolf, starting forward. But a companion named Carl Voss pulled him back quickly.
“Come on back to camp and leave these kids alone,” he advised, his eyes upon the weapons hanging across the boys’ arms. “They didn’t shoot at us.”
Wolf allowed himself to be dragged away, but his eyes were sullen and revengeful. “Some day it will be my turn to crow,” was his parting word.
“Looks like you’re doing all the crowing right now,” murmured Tim, as they watched the other party start back to the island.
CHAPTER XIII
In the Grip of the Storm
For a few moments the boys from the cabin camp watched the Rake Island boys walk across the ice, and then Barry turned away. “Come on,” he said. “We haven’t time to stand around idle. Remember that we want to move today, and already we have spent a good part of the morning.”
The other followed him, and they started back to the camp. “We’ve learned something, anyway,” Kent remarked.