ant lumber camp, and early the next morning Will was astir to make
sure there would be no delay.

The start was made from Mollie's boathouse, where the _Spider_ was
moored. The suitcases were piled in the forward part of the cockpit,
which was well provided with rugs. Then with Allen at the helm, and Will
and Frank to look after the sail, the girls took their places.

"All aboard!" cried Will, looking at his sister and her chums. "Hold
fast, everybody! Shall I shove off, Allen?"

"Yes!"

The boat glided out into the middle of the frozen river. The wind caught
the sail, it curved out, and the _Spider_ shot ahead, gathering speed
every second.

"We're off!" cried Betty, waving her hands to those who had come to see
them start.

"Good-bye! Good-bye!" was chorused over and over again.

As Amy waved with the others she little dreamed what a change would take
place in her life before she saw dear Deepdale again.

CHAPTER VIII

A SPILL

Straight up the Argono River flew the _Spider_. Crawled would perhaps be
a more appropriate term, considering the insect, but the ice boat did
not crawl--it literally flew.

"Oh, this is just glorious!" cried Mollie, with shining eyes, as she
crouched down amid the rugs near Will, and looked ahead at the white,
icy stretch.

"It's the most comfortable form of motion I ever imagined could be,"
said Betty. "I'm so glad you thought of it, Will. I wouldn't have missed
it for worlds."

"It's a little too swift for me," confessed Amy.

"Swift! I wish we could go faster!" exclaimed Mollie.

"We'll go faster soon, when we get around the bend," spoke Allen. "Then
we'll get the full force of the wind, and then----"

"Yes, and then will be the time you girls will have to hang on, even by
your eyelids," declared Will. "You'll see!"

"Oh, is it as scary as all that?" asked Grace.

"You won't mind," declared Frank, soothingly. "He's only trying to scare
you."

Amy looked a bit timid, but a reassuring glance from Betty put her at
her ease once more.

Truly the ice boat was all that the boys had claimed for it. Roomy, as
ice boats go, comfortable and speedy, it was really a prize.

"You deserve a vote of thanks, boys," said Mollie, as the sharp wind
brightened the roses in her cheeks.

"Leave it to your Uncle Dudley," declared Will. "I told you that you'd
like it."

"Here!" cried Grace, tossing him a chocolate.

"Oh!" he cried, as it hit him in the face, "whence this su