“Look here, Carl,” interrupted Dick impolitely, “the last thing you made was a toboggan, and it cost about nine dollars before you were through with it, and you could have bought a _good_ one for five.” Stewart giggled and Carl grinned good-naturedly. “Well, let’s buy one, then,” he replied. “Let’s go down to Euston Point and see the one this fellow advertises.” “How much do they cost?” asked Trevor. “Oh, we could get a second-hand one for fifteen dollars, easy; maybe less. That would be only four dollars apiece, if we all went in. And we could have the biggest kind of fun! Why, some ice-yachts go as fast as ninety miles an hour!” “Oh, get out!” “They do; don’t they, Stew?” “Easy,” answered Stewart gravely. “I’ve seen lots of them do it. I owned one myself once that could go a hundred and thirty-seven miles in----” “Shut up, you idiot!” growled Carl. “What do you say, fellows; shall we see if we can get the boat? Think how jolly grouchy the other chaps would be to see us skipping around and----” “And breaking our necks,” suggested Trevor. “Nothing of the sort! Why, it’s not dangerous at all; any one that knows anything about sailing a yacht can manage an ice-boat.” “Well, who knows anything about sailing among this crowd? Do you, Trevor?” Trevor shook his head. “Not a thing.” “_I_ do, of course,” interrupted Carl. “Well,” said Stewart, “as far as I’m concerned I think I’d rather have some one else than you do it, Carl.” “Oh, quit fooling; I’m in earnest. Suppose we go to Euston Point next Saturday and see what’s doing?” “But, look here,” said Dick, “how do you know Faculty will let us sail the thing if we get it?” “Why shouldn’t they? They allow skating; ice-yachting’s just skating--with a difference. Besides, as long as there’s no rule against it we have a right to do it.” This argument was incontrovertible, and it was agreed that the four should journey to the near-by village of Euston Point the following Saturday morning. And then Stewart suddenly discovered that the apples on the hearth had been done for some time, and in the business that followed the subject of ice-yachting was forgotten. When Dick and Trevor returned from supper that evening they found a fresh, inky-smelling number of The Hilltonian awaiting them in the letter-box. Dick hurried to the room with it and spread it out under the light on the table. Yes, Singer had been as good as his word; the leading editorial was headed The Rowing Situation, and was quite in Singer’s best style. “My!” ejaculated Trevor, who had been reading the article over Dick’s shoulder, “that’s spiffin!” “It sounds rather well, doesn’t it?” asked Dick, highly gratified by the effusion. “And you’d think it would bring some of the fellows round, eh?” “Bound to; you’ll find slathers of them in the gym to-morrow afternoon,” replied Trevor confidently. “Read it out loud, Hope.”