"And it is getting heavier every minute," declared Amy, looking over the side of the cockpit of the ice boat, and brushing some of the white crystals from the frozen surface of the river. "There's nearly half an inch now," and she shivered slightly. "Are you cold, dear?" asked Betty, passing over a spare blanket, for they had brought along plenty of coverings and wraps. "No, not exactly cold, Betty, but----" "Don't say you're worried, my dear," whispered Betty, as she tucked some stray strands of hair under her Tam-o'-Shanter. "Grace is so nervous lately," went on Betty, under pretense of wrapping the robe around Amy. "I don't know what is the matter with her, but she seems to fly to pieces if you look at her." "Perhaps it's worry about this lumber camp business." "It may be. Anyhow we don't want to get her alarmed. We may have hard enough time as it is." "Oh, Betty! Do you think--anything will--happen?" "Of course--lots of things will happen!" laughed Betty, Grace and Mollie having gotten out of the boat to stroll about a bit. "We'll have a nice walk home, and a good hot supper, and then we'll sit about the fireplace and roast apples and marshmallows, and talk about this." "That listens good," observed Will rather sarcastically, "but it may be a long while before you're sitting before your own fireside, or we in front of ours." "Well, you don't need to make the announcement of that fact; do you?" asked Allen, as he straightened out some of the running tackle of the sail. "So that's the way the wind lies; eh?" asked Will in a queer tone. "What's the answer, old man?" "Just this," replied Allen. "We may not be able to go on in the boat. I thought this was only a snow squall, but it seems to be turning into a regular blizzard. You know we can't glide over the ice when it's covered with snow. We may have to walk back to camp, and it's no small stretch. What I mean is that we've got to keep up the courage of the girls. That's all." He and Will and Frank were out of the boat now, fixing one of the ropes that had gotten out of place, so Betty and Amy, who remained cuddled up in the soft and warm robes, did not hear the talk. "So that's the game--bluff?" asked Will. "Somewhat--yes. I'm going to try to start off again, but I don't know how far we'll get. Where's Grace and Mollie?" "Hey--Grace!" cried Will, raising his voice. "We're going to start!" "All right!" floated back the answer through the storm. Soon the girls came running up to the ice boat. They had been racing about, they said, to get warm, and Betty and Amy, sitting amid the furs and blankets, rather wished they had done the same, for they were quite chilly in spite of their coverings. "I'm going to make a try for it," explained Allen. "We may not be able to go far, for the snow is rather wet and heavy, and it may clog the runners. But we'd better make a start, anyhow. It seems to be slackening up a bit."