Joe looked out the window.
“I wonder how our boats are faring,” he said. “With a wind like that, they’re liable to be damaged.”
“I was thinking of that,” Frank replied. “After breakfast we had better go down and see that they’re all right.”
The meal over, the boys donned their outdoor clothes and set out from the cabin. The snow had drifted over the path and they were obliged to break a new trail down the slope toward the little cove in which the ice-boats were left.
“What a dirty day!” exclaimed Chet. “I think we’re just as well off indoors in weather like this.”
“I should say so,” agreed the others.
They found that the ice-boats were weathering the gale well. No damage had been done, but the boys took all possible precautions in making the boats secure. While they were doing this, Joe gazed out into the storm.
“I must be dreaming,” he said at last.
“Why?” asked Frank.
“It hardly seems possible, but I’m sure I saw an ice-boat go speeding past, out in the bay. It was just a shadow in the snow.”