"Do you think it will rain?" asked Will, promptly, looking up into the cloudless sky, and nudging Frank sharply. "Keep still," he whispered.
"What is it?" demanded Grace. "Do you know his secret, Frank?"
"If he tells—I'll have revenge!" cried Will in theatrical fashion. "Mum's the word, old man," and he glanced significantly at Frank.
"All right—don't worry," was the retort.
"They seem to think they are having a race with us," remarked Allen, nodding in the direction of the other boat. It was a little distance ahead, but off to one side, a considerable space of glittering ice separating the two craft.
"Maybe he saw us coming, and shot out that way to make Alice think he was some ice yachtsman," suggested Will. "I'll tell him what I think the next time I see him."
"Oh, don't make any more trouble, Will," begged his sister. "We seem to be on the outs enough with the Jallow family. I only hope we don't meet Mr. Jallow up in the woods."
"He wouldn't dare annoy you," spoke Allen. "I know something about your father's case, and I think, when it is next tried, that Jallow will lose. He deserves to, I think, and I have gone over most of the evidence."
"If we could only get that missing lumberman to testify," said Grace, "it would end it all in papa's favor. But I suppose that is too much to hope for."
They were moving swiftly along now, and were a little more than a quarter of the way to the lumber camp. They intended to stop at noon, which would see them three-quarters there, and eat the lunch they had brought along.