“Nonsense, mother,” he laughed. “Just think of the game we’ll shoot and the fish we’ll catch.”
“Perhaps, Harry. Remember one thing, my boy; do not run into danger.”
“I’ll try to remember what you say.”
Harry had barely finished when Boxy came over, and, with a final good-by, the two started off for the Bascoe homestead.
They found the other two members of the club waiting for them. Jack had the well-packed sled out of the barn, and Andy stood beside him, a trifle pale, but otherwise as well as ever.
“Just a fine morning!” cried Jack. “And the wind blowing exactly in the right direction.”
“But snow isn’t far off—my father said so,” returned Harry. “He said we would be lucky to reach Rock Island Lake without catching a downfall.”
“We won’t lose another minute!” burst in Boxy. “Come on, boys! Good-by, everybody, and three cheers for the tour of the Zero Club!”
The backyard rang with the cheers, and then, with caps waving, the four boys moved off, dragging the sled behind them.
It certainly was a fine morning, the rising sun sending long glittering rays over the crust of the frozen snow. The wind was a trifle cold, but this the quartet did not mind. For them, just now, it was much better than no wind at all.