“Oh! I hope there’s a chance to use our iceboats too!” sighed Tom Betts, who late that fall had built a new flier, and never seemed weary of sounding the praises of his as yet untried “Speedaway.”
“Perhaps we may—who knows?” remarked Jack, mysteriously.
The others, knowing that the speaker was the nearest and dearest chum of Paul Morrison, assistant scout-master of Stanhope Troop of Boy Scouts, turned upon him eagerly on hearing this suggestive remark.
“You know something about the plans, Jack!”
“Sure he does, and he ought to give us a hint in the bargain!”
“Come, take pity on us, won’t you, Jack?”
But the object of all this pleading only shook his head and smiled as he went on to say:
“I’m bound to secrecy, fellows, and you wouldn’t have me break my word to our patrol 5 leader. Just hold your horses a little while longer and you’ll hear everything. We’re going to talk it over to-night and settle the matter once for all. Now let’s drop the subject. Here’s a new wrinkle I’m trying out.”
With that Jack started to spin around on his skates, and fairly dazzled his mates with the wonderful ability he displayed as a fancy skater.
While they are thus engaged a few words of explanation may not come in amiss.