“Say, why can’t yo’ fellahs take me along!” he burst out suddenly. “Ebery fust-class camp hab got to hab a cook an’ general util’ty man around, pap sez, an’ he sez I kin go along if youse will hab me. I don’t want no pay fo’ gwine along, an’ I’ll do wot I kin to help fill up de larder. I ain’t much wid a gun, but I kin trap t’ings, and yo’ all knows wot I kin do fishin’ an’ spearin’. It an’t fo’ de likes of yo’ to wash de dishes and sech, an’--an’, to tell de truf, I wants to go powerful bad!” And Pickles’ big, round eyes told very plainly that he spoke the truth. He had had that suggestion on his mind a long while, but he had hesitated to speak for fear of being refused. The boys looked at each other. They had not thought to include any one but themselves in the proposed outing. But it would be a shame to disappoint Pickles, who had always stood by them and done them more than one favor. “An’ I kin take my banjo and mouf harmonica along,” went on the colored youth. “Da will come in mighty handy-like to help kill de long evenings.” “That’s so,” said Boxy. “And you can give me those lessons you promised me.” “And you can show me how to build those traps you spoke about,” added Harry. “Yes, I want to learn how to trap, too,” put in Andy. “I guess you can go, Pickles,” finished up Jack, and it was settled that the colored youth should become one of the party. Pickles was so delighted that he could hardly contain himself. As soon as Rudskill was reached he ran off to tell his folks and prepare for the trip. He was gone but a short half-hour, and came back with a spear on his shoulder and an old army knapsack strapped on his back. The sled was brought out and tied on behind the _Icicle_, and then, without further delay, the long-talked-of tour was begun. “We have lost about two hours,” said Jack. “But as the breeze is stronger than ever, perhaps we can make up the lost time before nightfall.” The wind was indeed stronger, and soon Rudskill and the surrounding settlement was left far behind. Now that the _Icicle_ had been recovered and they were at last on the way, all of the boys felt in high spirits. Boxy began to whistle merrily, and soon after Pickles broke out into a comic negro ditty that set them all to roaring. It was after one o’clock when Hammerstone was reached. It being an hour later than they had anticipated, it was decided that they should procure a lunch to eat on the iceboat instead of stopping off for a meal. Jack procured the stuff--sandwiches and a big mince pie--and soon they were on the way to Rudd’s Landing, their stopping place for the night. By four o’clock Jack calculated that they had traveled three-quarters of the distance from Rudskill. “And if the wind holds out, we’ll be in Rudd’s Landing by seven or half-past,” he said. By five o’clock it began to grow both darker and colder. A little later the wind died down somewhat, although it still blew sufficiently strong to keep them spinning on their course.