But when morning came the surface of the lake was still a mass of loose and shifting ice.  Lem demanded of Mrs. Tingley the help of all the men at the camp, and they started right away after breakfast to “comb” the island in a thorough manner.

There wasn’t a trace near the running stream to show in which direction the fugitive had gone.  Had Jerry gone up stream he could have reached the very heart of the rough end of the island without leaving the water-trail.

A party of the boys, with Ruth, Helen, and Ann Hicks, stole out of the lodge after the main searching party, and struck off for the high point where the lone pine tree grew.

“I’d hate to think we’d draw that constable over there and help him to catch Jerry,” said Bobbins.

“We won’t,” Tom replied.  “We are just going to leave the tin box of grub for him.  He probably won’t come out of hiding and try to get the food until this foolish constable has given up the chase.  And I put the food in the tin box so that no prowling animal would get it instead of Jerry.”

It was hard traveling in the snow, for the party of young folk had not thought to obtain snowshoes.  “We’ll string some when we go back,” Tom promised.  “I know there are some frames all ready.”

“But no more such tobogganing as we had last winter up at Snow Camp,” declared Busy Izzy, with deep feeling.  “Remember the spill I had with Ruth and that Heavy girl?  Gee! that was some spill.”

“The land here Is too rough for good sliding,” said Tom.  “But I wish the lake would freeze hard again.  Ralph says there are a couple of good scooters, and we all have our skates.”

“And the fishing!” exclaimed Helen, eagerly.  “I do so want to fish through the ice again.”

“Oh! we’re bound to have a bully good time,” declared Bobbins.  “But we’ll do this Jerry Sheming a good turn, too, if we can.”

CHAPTER XV

OVER THE PRECIPICE

Under the soft snow that had fallen the day before was a hard-packed layer that had come earlier in the season and made a firm footing for the explorers.  Ruth and her chum, with Ann Hicks, were quite as good walkers as the boys.  At any rate, the three girls determined not to be at the end of the procession.

The constable and his unwilling helpers (for none of the men about the Tingley camp cared to see Jerry Sheming in trouble) were hunting the banks of the stream higher up for traces of the trail the boy had taken when he ran away from Rufus Blent the previous afternoon.

Therefore the girls and boys who had started for the rendezvous at the lone pine, were able to put the wooded ridge between them and the constable’s party, and so make their way unobserved toward the western end of Cliff Island.

“They may come back and follow us,” growled Tom.  “But they’ll be some way behind, and we’ll hurry.  I have a note in this tin box warning Jerry what he must look out for.  As long as that Lem Daggett is on the island, I suppose he will be in danger of arrest.”