The boys suspected nothing of this, but the public curiosity began to be annoying.
"Can't we start at once?" Fred suggested.
"Yes; there's no use in stopping here another hour," Peter agreed. "We ought to catch the fine weather while it lasts, and we can make a good many miles in the rest of this day."
So they left their baggage at the hotel, with instructions to have it kept till their return, secured their toboggan at the depot, and went down to the river. The stream was a belt of clear, bluish ice, free from snow except for a little drift here and there.
Half a dozen curious idlers had followed them. Paying no attention, the boys took off their moccasins and put on the hockey boots with skates attached. They slid out upon the ice and dragged the toboggan after them.
The spectators raised a cheer, which the three boys answered with a yell as they struck out. The ice was good; the toboggan ran smoothly after them, so that they scarcely noticed its weight. In a moment the snowy roofs of the little village had passed out of sight around a bend of the river, and black spruce and hemlock woods were on either side. The great adventure had begun.
CHAPTER II
"Don't force the pace at first, boys," Fred warned his companions. "Remember, we've a long way to go."
As the expert skater, he had taken the leading end of the drag-rope. His advice was hard to follow. The ice was in perfect condition; the toboggan ran almost without friction on its steel shoes, and in that sparkling air it seemed that it would be easy to skate a hundred miles without ever once resting.