CHAPTER V.

GETTING READY TO START.

“Twenty dollars!” cried Harry, as he spread out the bill. “What do you think of that, mother?”

“It is a very handsome present, Harry. But ought you to accept the money?”

“I don’t know. I don’t like to, exactly, but the Woodruffs are rich, and they can easily afford it.”

“Still, you had better ask your father about it.”

“I will. I’m going down to the store now.”

Mr. Webb kept the only flour and feed store in Rudskill. As we have said, he had been unfortunate in his speculations, and now had to live quite frugally to make both ends meet. The business was well established, and he employed a clerk and also a man to drive the wagon.

Harry often helped at the store, it being his duty to carry out small orders and clean up. During the school term he did this work early in the morning and after the school session, but now he did it whenever called upon by his parent.

Mr. Webb had heard all about the proposed tour of the Zero Club, and, as Harry’s heart seemed set on accompanying the other boys, he had good-naturedly determined to let his son off for three or four weeks, feeling that the outing would make him more willing than ever to take hold when he came back.

But nothing had been said about the expense, Harry knowing full well that his father could not afford to let him off and give him money besides.

Mr. Webb smiled when his son showed him the card and the twenty-dollar bill.

“Well, I don’t know,” he said, slowly. “I helped Mr. Woodruff out more than once when I felt rich and he felt poor. I guess you would better keep the money and go and thank them for the gift. It’s just what you need for the trip, isn’t it?”

“Yes, twenty dollars will more than cover my expenses,” said Harry. “And if you say keep the money, let me tell you what I propose to do, father.”

“Well?”

“We have reckoned it out, and I can get along on fourteen dollars easily. Now I propose to get Paul Larkins to take my place here for three weeks at two dollars per week and pay him myself. That will help you out, and also give Paul the chance to help his mother, who is down sick.”

“But the money is for the trip, Harry,” said Mr. Webb, although well pleased at his son’s generous proposal.

“Well, I count that an expense of the trip, getting a substitute while I am away.”

“Well, if you say so, let it be so,” returned Mr. Webb, as he turned away to wait on a customer.

When Harry was done work he went back home and fixed up, and then called on the Woodruffs. Blushing furiously, he took both Mrs. Woodruff and Minnie by the hand, and thanked them for their gift. Somehow he was glad to escape the praise they showered upon him for what he had done.

He left the house with Boxy, who linked arms with him in the most brotherly fashion.

“We’ll be greater chums than ever now,” said Boxy. “I’ve talked it over with father, and you are to go to college with me when we graduate at Rudskill Academy. But never mind that now. You’ll go on the tour, then?”

“Will I! Of course I will!” cried Harry. “I’m fairly bubbling over with enthusiasm on that point.”

“Come on and hunt up the Bascoes, then, and we’ll talk matters over.”

It was not difficult to find Andy and Jack, and to them matters were quickly explained. The quartet composing the Zero Club at once made their way to the meeting-room, and here began an animated discussion of plans regarding the proposed tour.

Andy got out a long slip of paper, and on this were put down the many articles to be taken along--blankets, skates, guns and ammunition, as well as flour, tea, coffee, sugar, salt, spices, canned goods, and half-a-dozen tin plates and various kitchen utensils. These goods were to be packed on a sled belonging to Boxy, the sled to be tied to the iceboat on the way up the river.

Then came the question of the iceboat. As they intended to use the craft but a short portion of the way going and coming, it was decided to knock it together as cheaply as possible.

“I have got an old sail or two,” said Jack. “And we can get some old lumber and iron runners from the ruins of the old blacksmith-shop that stands on that property father bought last fall.”

“And I’ve got rope enough,” said Harry. “Father’s mill garret is full of it, so much comes around packages.”

Then came the question of when they should start, and it was unanimously agreed that the following Monday morning would be best. That would give them just enough time to build the iceboat and make other necessary preparations.

Andy was appointed treasurer of the club, and that afternoon each of the boys paid over to him exactly twelve dollars and a half, so that, with his own money, he had fifty dollars to expend for the tour. The building of the iceboat was begun without delay at the old blacksmith-shop, the land to which sloped down to the river’s edge.

The news that the four boys were going off for nearly a month’s outing soon spread, and many came down to the blacksmith-shop to see what was going on.

Among the crowd was Pete Sully, who turned up his nose at the boat the boys were building.

“If I couldn’t build a better boat than that I’d drown myself,” he sneered. “I’ll bet it won’t sail a foot.”

“Build a boat and try your speed against her,” said Jack, lightly. “Talk is well enough, but actions go further.”

“Maybe you think I can’t build a boat,” retorted Sully, angrily.

“I’m not thinking in that direction,” returned Jack. “I am busy with my own affairs.”

“I’ll build a boat and show you,” growled Sully, and he went off with Dixon, his ever-present toady.

“Do you think he’ll build a boat?” questioned Harry, who was hammering away on one of the runners of the skeleton craft.

“No; he hasn’t brains enough,” put in Boxy. “I don’t believe he could drive a nail without splitting the board, if he tried his best.”

“It’s a case of sour grapes,” remarked Andy. “He is jealous because we are going off for a good time.”

“Well, he and his crowd can go off on their own account if they wish,” said Jack. “We are not hindering them.”

“Maybe he will take it into his head to go off, after we are gone,” said Andy. “He always was a great hand to imitate somebody else.”

It was fortunate that the boys had the old blacksmith-shop to work in, for that day it began to snow furiously, and before nightfall the ground was covered to the depth of six or eight inches. This, on top of the layer already packed down, made elegant sleighing.

“We must have a few more rides on my toboggan before we leave,” said Harry.

“Let’s spend Saturday evening on the hill,” suggested Andy. “We can go early, and still have time to make final preparations for our tour before we go to bed.”

The new fall of snow caused plenty of snowballing to occur in the town. The Zero Club took full part in this, and had one battle which was not soon forgotten.

It was started by Bill Dixon, who had been “laying to get even” with Harry ever since the episode on the toboggan-slide. Dixon hung around Harry’s corner on the morning following the snowstorm, in company with half-a-dozen lesser lights of the Sully crowd. Under his arms he held several “soakers,” almost as hard as flint.

When Harry hurried out of the gate on his way to do the morning work at his father’s store, Dixon took careful aim, and let drive with all of his might.

The hard snowball took Harry in the left shoulder, hurting him not a little. Had it landed in his face it might have put out his eye or broken his nose.

Harry staggered back, and Dixon, chuckling over the success of his shot, dodged behind a high board fence.

“Give it to him, fellows!” he cried, excitedly. “Give it to him in the head!”

Several more snowballs were thrown, but Harry was now on his guard. He dodged them, and began to run across the street, gathering up some snow as he ran.

“What’s up, Harry?” cried Boxy, coming out of his house at the moment.

“Some fellow hit me terribly hard in the shoulder. Come on!” returned Harry, and, in honor bound to help a fellow member of the club, Boxy ran after his chum.

At the end of the fence they caught sight of Dixon and the others. A fierce fusillade of snowballs from both sides followed. Harry hit Dixon in the chest, and Boxy knocked off his cap.

“Go for ’em!” shouted Dixon, in a rage. “Hullo, there, Pete!” he yelled to Sully, who was out looking for him, and the principal of the gang soon joined the forces against the two members of the Zero Club.

Two to seven was an uneven contest, and it was not long before Harry and Boxy felt they were getting the worst of it.

“If only Jack and Andy were here!” panted Boxy. “Unless they come, we’ll have to turn tail and run.”

“I sha’n’t run,” said Harry, firmly. “Let’s direct all of our shots at Sully and Dixon. They are the leaders of the crowd, and if we can frighten them back the others will quickly follow.”

Boxy caught the suggestion, and it was carried out immediately. The result was that inside of two minutes Sully got three snowballs in his face and neck, and Dixon half a dozen all over him.

“Hi! that ain’t fair!” howled Dixon. “They’re throwing at me and nobody else!”

“Another volley on Dixon,” whispered Harry. “That’s the weak point now.”

And out flew the hard, white balls, and the bully’s toady received two more, this time both in the neck. The snow went down inside of his collar, causing him to yell from the cold.

“I--I can’t stand this!” he sputtered. “Why don’t you fellows do something?”

“Let’s charge on them!” cried Sully, angrily. “Come on--everybody take all the snowballs he can carry.”

The seven loaded up with ammunition at once, and they sallied forth. But, to their dismay, Jack and Andy Bascoe had just arrived on the scene, followed up by Pickles Johnsing, the colored youth. These three were not slow to take in the situation, and they sailed in vigorously.

“Dis am most lubly sport!” cried Pickles. “How yo’ like dat, Sully? Ki! hi! Ain’t dat jess elegant, Dixon? An’ heah’s one fo’ you, Len Spencer, fo’ callin’ me a coon!”

And Pickles rushed to the front, followed by Andy and Jack, and compelling Sully and his crowd to retreat in spite of themselves. Aided by Boxy and Harry, they fought so vigorously that inside of ten minutes the bully and his chums were put completely to rout.

Sully and Dixon, and also Len Spencer, Pickles’ particular enemy, were greatly enraged over the way they had been used. They threatened vengeance on the members of the Zero Club. How they carried out their threat will be seen later on.