Part 29 (1/2)

”A fruit cake!” exclaimed Fred, as he opened the package addressed to him. ”I'll tell you! It takes my mother to remember what us fellows like,” and he smacked his lips.

The other package, addressed to Andy and Randy, contained a box of home-made sugar cookies, while that which Spouter had received contained a long loaf of ginger cake and a box of hard candies.

”Well, one thing is sure--they haven't forgotten us,” was Spouter's remark, as he pa.s.sed the candies around.

All the boys were anxious to read their letters, and for the time being everything else was forgotten. Mrs. d.i.c.k Rover wrote that nothing of importance had happened at home since they had gone away. Ruth Stevenson and May Powell were still with them, but all of the girls expected to go to the Stevenson homestead to finish their school vacation.

The letter from d.i.c.k Rover had been sent from the battlefront in France.

In it he related how he and his brothers, as well as some of their old school chums, had been in a number of small engagements. In one of these Tom and Sam Rover had been slightly wounded by the fragments from a sh.e.l.l, and he himself had been in a gas attack, but had escaped without serious injury. All had been sent to the field hospital to be treated, but now they were once more at the front in what were called their winter quarters.

”The Boches are watching us like a cat watches a mouse, and we are equally on the alert,” wrote d.i.c.k Rover. ”There have been no big battles, but sniping is going on constantly, and several of our men have been killed or wounded. We are all anxious to have the cold weather break up, so that we can go forward and finish this war. We feel that we can wallop the enemy, if only we have a chance to get at them.”

”That's dad, all right,” murmured Jack admiringly. He had read the letter aloud for the benefit of the others.

”Oh, dear! I hope dad wasn't seriously hurt,” murmured Fred.

”I think if our fathers were very badly hurt Uncle d.i.c.k would let us know,” answered Randy. ”He isn't one to hold back news--he knows we want the truth.”

”If only this war was over!” remarked Andy, and now there was little of his usual light-heartedness in his tone. ”I won't feel at ease until our soldiers are bound for home.”

The six cadets talked over the letters they had received for some time.

They had brought stationery with them, and they spent the evening writing letters in return.

”I don't see how we're going to get these down to Timminsport unless we walk down there,” remarked Jack. ”And a walk of five or six miles through this snow each way wouldn't be an easy job.”

”I know what we can do,” replied Gif. ”We can skate down the river to a place called Henryville. There is a post-office there, and letters are sent over to Timminsport at least once a day.”

”How far is it to Henryville?” questioned Randy.

”Oh, not more than three miles.”

”Do you suppose the skating is any good?”

”I don't see why it shouldn't be.”

”Let's do it!” broke in Spouter. ”We wanted to have a skate anyway. We can take our guns along, in case we see any game.” And so it was arranged.

The next day dawned bright and clear, and after breakfast the boys got their letters and their skates and started for the river.

”I'll wager we'll find the ice covered with snow in some places,”

remarked Randy.

”I don't know about that,” answered Gif. ”I was hoping the high wind had swept it pretty clean.”

They were soon on the ice, their skates ringing merrily as they struck out into an impromptu race. They swept down the river and around a broad bend, and were soon well out of sight of the tract of forest land upon which the Lodge was located.

”I hope Glutts and Werner don't visit the bungalow during our absence,”

remarked Spouter.