"Oh, he'll come around all right," answered Dave. "You had better see to it that he gets to the Hall safely."
"Are you going to leave me?"
"Yes, I want to find Henshaw and the others."
Nat Poole wanted to argue, but he did not dare. Dave waited until Link Merwell sat up and opened his eyes. Then he leaped on the ice-boat and flung off the three skates he found there.
"Going away?" mumbled Merwell, when he could speak.
"Yes, and after this, Link Merwell, see that you keep a civil tongue in your head," answered Dave, and then he trimmed the sail of the ice-boat, shoved the craft around, and started for the river.
Dave was a good deal "worked up," but he had not deemed it wise to let his enemies see it. To be called a "poorhouse rat" had stung him to the quick, and once again when touched on that subject he had found his temper as ungovernable as ever.
"It's no use, I can't stand it," he told himself. "If they want me to let them alone they have got to cut that out."
It was now so dark that but little could be seen on the broad river. Dave turned the craft towards Robber Island and made a long tack. He was just coming around on the other tack when there came a shout out of the darkness.
"Don't run us down! Why, it's Dave!"