"What's that?" cried Merwell, sharply. He was a fellow used to having his own way.
"I want that boat. I was with Messmer and Henshaw, and we left the craft on the shore of an island. It's my opinion you two chaps ran off with her."
"See here, do you take me for a thief?" cried Link Merwell. And in his aggressive fashion he swaggered up to Dave.
"Not that, Merwell, but I think you took the ice-boat. I am going to take her back, so I can get our crowd aboard."
"And what do you expect me to do?" asked Nat Poole.
"You can skate back to the Hall."
"I lost one of my skates."
"Then let Merwell tow you on one foot."
"Oh, you needn't boss us around, Porter," growled Link Merwell. "I'm not used to it, and I won't stand for it. Poole and I are going to the Hall on the ice-boat, and that is all there is about it."
He drew himself up to his full height—he was four inches taller than Dave—and glared down defiantly. This gave Nat Poole a little courage, and he ranged beside Merwell, and both doubled up their fists.