By the time supper was ready, they were somewhat rested. They crowded around his small table like so many famished wolves, and it was astonishing to see how rapidly the food disappeared. Luckily, he had sufficient on hand, so no one went short. Barton Coils took a lively interest in the proposed expedition, and declared he almost wished he was one of the party. “It would make me feel ten years younger,” he said. “Why can’t you go?” asked Jack. “I am sure we would all be pleased to have you along.” “I can’t leave here, that’s the trouble,” returned the boathouse keeper. “Otherwise, I would accept your kind offer in a minute, I would, indeed.” He asked them about their traps, and told them of several additional things it would be best to take along. Andy made a note of the articles, and before retiring went up into the town and procured them. “You’ll find your _Icicle_ all right when you come back for her, never fear,” said Coils to Jack. “I know we shall,” said Jack. Then he began to talk to the others, and they all nodded in the affirmative. “See here, we have a proposition to make,” he went on. “There is no use allowing the iceboat to remain idle during our absence, and we have decided to let you hire her out to the town folks if you will. Whatever you can get that way will be yours.” “Well, boys, I didn’t expect this.” And Barton Coils smiled his gratitude. “It will be better to keep the runners scoured up than let them grow rusty. But the sail will have to be mended.” “I’ll fix that all right; and much obliged to you all,” replied the boatkeeper. There was a large spare room over the boathouse, and in this the boys spent the night, lying on the floor in their blankets in true camping style. Barton Coils would have given them a couple of old cots, but they declined these, for the reason, as Pickles put it, “dat da wanted fo’ to git ust to sleepin’ on de hard side of jess nowhere.” When the members of the Zero Club arose they found the day as clear as could be wished. The sun was just peeping over the distant hills and not a breath of air was blowing. “Boom-a-rah! boom-a-rah! boom! boom! boom!” sounded out Boxy, imitating a big drum. “All up, for there is no time to lose if we want to reach the shores of Rock Island Lake before nightfall.” “Right you are,” cried Jack. “Fold up the blankets and make your toilets just as quickly as you can. Pickles can see to the repacking of the sled, while I hunt around for breakfast.” “Breakfast is all ready!” put in Barton Coils, poking his head up the ladder-way. “I was just going to rouse you out.” In a jiffy one and another made their toilets, and climbed down into the kitchen. The smell of the buckwheat cakes filled the apartment, and a big platter of them were ready to be eaten, along with some maple syrup fresh from the grove back of the landing. “Here’s where I am struck right in my soft spot!” cried Andy. “I’ll miss the buckwheat cakes, if nothing else!”