“There’s a big crack ahead,” explained Ned briefly, and leaping from the boat, he ran forward to investigate.
Large bodies of water, such as Lake Erie, do not freeze with uniform smoothness as do small ponds. At intervals over their frozen surfaces great cracks form, which the varying winds cause to open and close with a force sufficient to tilt the ice along their borders at a sharp angle. It was one of these open cracks dead ahead that had caught Ned’s watchful eye.
“‘WE’VE GOT ‘EM LICKED!’ SCREAMED DICK”
“It’s ten feet wide if it’s an inch,” grumbled Tommy, as he stood at the edge of the lane of black water that stretched far to right and left of their course. “Can you jump it, Ned?”
“Not with the load we’re carrying,” was the decided answer. “We’ll have to look for a better place.”
Hurrying back to the boat, they skirted the crack for a mile, coming at last to a spot where a great cake of ice on the near side of the opening lay tilted at an angle that afforded a good take-off for the jump.
“Here’s the only possible chance I can see to make it,” observed Ned, after a quick survey of the situation. Then addressing the stranger he rapidly stated the case. “This crack right where we are is almost six feet wide,” he explained. “There’s a fair chance that we can jump it, but I’ll admit it’s none too easy a stunt. Do you want to risk it?”
“Sure,” growled the man in the fur coat. “Go ahead.”
Without another word, Ned tacked quickly to starboard, swung in a wide circle and headed directly for the crack, driving the Frost King to the very limit of her speed.