Chapter Twenty Two.
Frost and no Skates!—Rory Disconsolate—McBain to the Rescue—A Roaring Day and a Merry Night—A Mysterious Pool.
King Frost had come—and come, too, with a will, for when Rory went on deck next morning the ice was all around the yacht, hard and smooth and black.
“It is frozen in we are,” said Rory—“frozen in entirely, and never a vestige of a skate in the ship. Just look, Allan, that ice is bearing already! What could have possessed us to leave Scotland without skates?”
“It is provoking,” remarked Allan, looking at the ice with a rueful countenance.
“Well, we can’t go back home for them, that is certain sure. D’ye think, now, that old Ap could manufacture us a few pairs?”
“He is very handy,” Allan said; “but I question if he could manufacture skates.”
“However,” said Rory, “the ice is bearing; we can slide if we can’t skate. So I, for one, am going over the side presently.”