“Of course we can,” Jack agreed eagerly. “And it’s mighty lucky we brought our skates with us.”
After a hurried breakfast they got their skates from the office and quickly exchanging their moccasins for shoes they were soon skimming over the surface of the lake on their way to Kernertok’s cabin.
“It’s almost as good as ice to skate on,” Jack declared, and his brother agreed with him.
Thanks to the crust they reached the cabin much sooner than they had expected and found Kernertok eating his breakfast. Kernertok was very glad to see them, as was also Sicum, his faithful dog.
The day passed quickly, as days spent with him always did, and almost before they were aware of it, it was time to start for the camp.
As they skated along side by side, with long swinging strokes which bore them rapidly over the surface of the lake, Bob said suddenly:
“Jack, boy, we’ve got to prove that Ben Donahue poisoned those horses. If we don’t he’ll find some way to hold the crew up long enough to make father forfeit that contract. But if we can prove that he did it, we’ll have a club to hold over him and can make him be good.”
They were only about a mile from the camp as Bob spoke, and, as if by one impulse, both stopped.
“You’re right, of course,” Jack said as he stooped to tighten a strap. “But how are we going to do it? You remember what father said about it being next to impossible to find out where he got the stuff.”
“I remember it all right, but I’ve been thinking about it all day and I believe there’s a chance. It’s a mighty slim one, I’ll admit, but it’s a chance.”