They dug the Follow Me out of the snowdrift, and dragged her ashore after taking down the mast and stowing the frozen sail. The motor and engine had not been hurt as far as the boys could see.
They dragged the iceboat back to John Bromley’s dock on a sledge, and by that time it was dark. One of the boys stayed with Bromley each night after that until the day of the races.
For the regatta, so long looked forward to, was held on the date appointed. On Christmas night there was a rise in the temperature and a gentle rain. In the morning around went the wind again to the northwest, and the mercury went down to almost the zero mark. The snow-covered river was a glare of icy crust.
The boats were soon out in full force, although the skating was not good. For the first time the boys learned just what it meant to maneuver an iceboat on a rough surface.
Dan and Billy, with the help of Bert Biggin, dug out the Fly-up-the-Creek on the shore of Island Number One, and took the girls to Karnac Lake the day before the regatta.
Mildred and Lettie had enjoyed the sport before; but although the breeze was light, the big iceboat got under great headway coming home, and when she leaped from the summit of a particularly big hummock of snow-ice, and did not touch a runner to the surface for forty feet, the girls thought they had come as near to flying as they ever wished to.
“And do you mean to say you believe you can get greater speed out of your new boat than this, Dannie?” panted Lettie Parker. “Why! I can’t believe it.”
“To-morrow will tell the story,” returned Dan, grimly.
“The boys say that Streak o’ Light Barry Spink has built is just a wonder,” said Mildred, anxiously.
“Well, of course,” returned Dan, seriously, “I can’t tell what Barry has built. But it’s got to be a good one to beat our Follow Me, now that we have overhauled her and adjusted her again—eh, Billy?”