They continued along the edge of the ravine, Pickles keeping up with them on the other side. Fifty feet further on the cut closed up almost entirely, and they easily stepped across. “This beats running any risk jumping,” said Harry, and Pickles readily agreed with him. All three of the boys set up a shout for the others, and it was not long before Jack and Andy appeared with the sled. The latter was lifted over the narrow opening, and then the club continued on its way, Pickles again bursting out into a song, this time singing about “Forms in White, a-Floating in de Sky.” “Just now it was a case of a form in black a-floundering in the snow,” remarked Boxy to Harry, and the latter laughed heartily over the joke. “We ought to be getting near to the lake now,” said Jack, about four o’clock in the afternoon. “That’s so,” said Andy. “If we get there much later than this there will be no time left to build a shelter for the night.” On and on they went, taking turns at dragging the sled with its heavy load. The sun was pretty well down, and it began to grow colder. “The lake, at last!” suddenly burst from Boxy’s lips, and he ran ahead, quickly followed by the others. Boxy was right. A short dash through a clump of trees, and they stood on the shore of Rock Island Lake. Before them was a broad expanse of glass-like ice, dotted here and there with long drifts of snow. “Hurrah!” they all shouted, and Pickles added: “An’ dis ends de day’s trabbels ob de Zero Club.” “Now for a good spot to pitch camp,” cried Jack. “I can’t say that I like it right here.” “No; it’s too cold,” returned Harry. “Let’s go back a little, say a hundred feet or so, and find some sort of shelter behind some rocks.” This was readily agreed upon, and the boys scattered in various directions, each trying to find a more suitable spot than the others. Harry struck out up the lake shore a bit, and presently came to a spot where two immense rocks leaned against each other over a little gully, scarcely a yard deep and two yards wide. The gully was dry, and filled with leaves, and he thought that if the snow was cleared out and banked up in front, it would be just the place they desired. The opening under the rocks was about ten feet deep, and the rear was choked up with fallen branches, brush, and dirt. He called to the others, and soon all but Jack were by his side. “That’s the ticket!” cried Boxy. “We couldn’t find a better place made to order.” “We can spread the rubber blankets over the leaves, and it will make good bedding,” said Andy. “An’ dat dar snow will keep out all de cold,” put in Pickles. “Yes, de prize goes to Harry fo’ findin’ de right spot.” “Where is Jack?” asked Harry, anxious to have all of the members of the club satisfied before it was settled to stay. “Maybe he has discovered a better spot.” They all set up a shout, and waited for an answer. But none came. Then they shouted again, with the same result.