With frantic haste, the four boys completed the task of putting on their skates. Pickles had his pair along with him, and put them on also. “I’se gwine wid yo’, if you lets me,” he said. “Maybe yo’ll want some help if yo’ gits in a muss.” “Certainly, come on, Pickles,” said Jack. The sled was left in a safe place, and then, without further delay, the five boys started down the river toward Lumberton, a small settlement ten miles distant. At first but slow progress was made, owing to the stiffness felt by the members of the Zero Club from the toboggan accident. But gradually they warmed up to the work, and then they glided over the smooth ice rapidly. Pickles, who was a good skater, despite the shortness of his legs, kept close to Jack’s side. “I wish we were provided with clubs,” said Boxy. “We may have a rough time of it with Sully and his gang. He hasn’t forgotten how we got the best of him at snowballing, and most likely he’s prepared to fight us off.” “He’ll give up the iceboat fast enough, never fear,” returned Jack. “You must remember, I can have him arrested for stealing our property if I want to.” “But you wouldn’t do that, would you?” asked Harry. “Not unless he got positively ugly. But he must be taught to remember that we intend to stand no nonsense.” On and on down the frozen river swept the five boys, until Rudskill was left far behind. The sun mounted higher in the sky, tempering the wind and making skating more agreeable. “We’ll soon be up to Thompson’s Bend, and then we’ll have a straight course before us,” said Andy. “If I’d thought, I would have taken the field-glasses from the pack,” said Boxy. “Then we could have seen the _Icicle_ even if she was miles off.” “I kin see dat _Isticle_ fur ’nouf, nebber fear,” said Pickles. “My eyes hab been trained since I was knee-high to a grasshopper.” The bend Jack had mentioned was reached five minutes later, and in a bunch the boys swept around the last projecting headland. A straight course for twelve miles lay before them. “There’s the _Icicle_!” cried Andy, suddenly. “Where? where?” came from the others. “Over to the east shore! See, they are tacking this way!” “You are right!” returned Harry. “And there is Bill Dixon standing at the bow.” “An’ dat low-down Len Spencer in de back, alongside ub Pete Sully!” added Pickles. “Didn’t I dun tole yo’ da was comin’ dis way?” “They have discovered us!” exclaimed Boxy, a second later. “See, they intend to turn on the other tack. Come on, fellows, we mustn’t give them a chance to get away!” He started off at full speed on his skates, and the others quickly followed. The iceboat was all of an eighth mile off, and speeding over the river as fast as the wind would carry her. Those on board had discovered the owners as quickly as they themselves had been revealed, and were now making frantic efforts to get out of the reach of their pursuers. CHAPTER IX. THE TOUR BEGINS.