CHAPTER XIV

christmas dat

"I think we ought to make this outing an annual affair," said Chet Morton the next morning after the boys had wished one another "Merry Christmas."

"Why?"

"We get two Christmases out of it. It suits me fine."

"If you expect to get any presents around here, you're badly mistaken," sniffed Joe, putting on his shoes.

"I didn't. If I had expected any I would have hung up my stocking. But we'll have a Christmas dinner, anyway. That'll be the second Christmas dinner this week."

"If we hadn't found those supplies, you'd be out of luck for your Christmas dinner to-day. The chicken and the pudding and the Christmas cake were all in those two boxes," Frank said.

"Didn't I know it? But everything is all right now."

"Take a look out the window and see if Han-leigh is snooping around the rocks," advised

Biff.

mm*

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Chet sped to the window.

"A glorious day!" he reported. "A beautiful, sunshiny Christmas day. The only cloud on the whole horizon is that there is no sign of Mr. Hanleigh. The ice is clear and it looks as if we'll have some splendid ice-boating this afternoon. But Mr. Hanleigh is not ice-boating this morning. There is snow on the hillside- but our dear friend Hanleigh is not snowshoe-ing. But let us not lose hope. He may yet emerge from his hiding place and proceed forth to enjoy the keen Christmas air in the vicinity of Cabin Island, that clear atmosphere that he doesn't want us to breathe."

Chet's rhapsody came to an abrupt halt when Joe hurled a wet towel that caught him squarely on the back of the neck. Frank, who had been appointed cook for the day, put a stop to hostilities by announcing breakfast just then and the lads sat down to piping hot plates of ham and eggs, accompanied by fragrant coffee.

The big surprise came when Frank, with a flourish, drew aside a curtain that had been screening a mysterious table in one corner of the big room. Here, the Hardy boys had put their presents to each other and to their chums. There was a handsome pair of boxing gloves for Biff and a glittering, nickel-plated flashlight for Chet. Frank had given his brother a

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Aew watch-chain and Joe, in turn, had given Frank a pair of cuff-links with his initials engraved thereon.

"Well," said Chet, admiring the flashlight and switching it on and off to see that it was in good working order, after the boys had exchanged thanks for the gifts, "Biff and I thought we were putting something across, too, but you got ahead of us."

And, going into the kitchen, he emerged with some mysterious-looking parcels which he promptly distributed. These were the presents Biff and Chet had arranged to give the Hardy boys and to each other. Frank received a pair of ski-boots and Joe the same. Biff's enthusiasm over a punching bag was long and loud, while Chet himself was delighted with a little book of tickets to the best motion picture house in Bayport.

"I see where I won't do much homework until these tickets are used up," he said, with & wink.

Their presents having been duly examined and admired, the lads donned their outing clothes, with the exception of Frank. As cook, it was his duty to stay and prepare the Christinas dinner, at the same time keeping an eye on the rocks where the supplies had been hidden. The base of the cliff was in plain view of

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the big cabin window so there was little danger that the owner of the mysterious notebook would approach unobserved.

"What if he should chance along while you're all away?"

"We never thought of that," said Biff, in dismay. "You couldn't very well handle him alone.''

"How about your rifle!" Joe suggested.

"The very thing! Even if you chaps go as far as the mainland, you will be able to hear a rifle shot. I'll fire one shot into the air and that will be the signal to come back as quickly as you can. If he tries to get away, you can easily head him off in the ice-boat."

This arrangement seemed to preclude any possibility of the stranger's escape if he chanced to show up, so Joe, Chet and Biff trooped out. For the morning, they had decided to stay close to the cabin, "so there won't be any risk of missing dinner," as Chet explained, and amuse themselves by fishing through the ice. So, with lines ready and hooks baited with pieces of salt pork, they made, their way down the slope and out on the ice.

There they set to work with their hatchets and soon had three holes chopped in the ice. They dropped in their lines and from then on it was a game to see who would catch the first

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fish. Chet, of course, raised a clamor every few minutes, claiming that he had a bite, but somehow the fish always managed to get away.

"No wonder," grumbled Biff. "You scare 'em away, with all that racket. Try being quiet for a while and see how it works."

To the astonishment of the others, Chet actually did manage to refrain from noise for the space of five minutes and the plan evidently had good results-but not for Chet. Joe suddenly gave his line a yank. A silvery body flashed through the air and flopped wildly on the ice.

He had caught a good-sized fish and when it has been despatched, the others returned to the ice-holes with renewed enthusiasm. Within a few minutes, Biff was the fortunate one, and a second fish was laid to rest on the ice beside the first. Chet endured the chaffing of the others, who elaborately complimented him on his skill. A moment later, he gave a yell of delight.

"I've got one! I've got one!"

He began to haul and tug at the line.

"A whopper!" gasped Chet. "I can hardly pull him in.''

The other boys watched his efforts, their eyes bulging. Chet was struggling with all his might and although he was gradually drawing in his line, there seemed to be a tremendous Weight on the end of it.

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"Must be a whale!" grunted Chet. "Ah-. here he comes!"

He drew in his prize. It rose above the surface of the water. Chet stared at it in disgust.

The "fish" was nothing more than r, very battered pail. Chet's hook had somehow caught the handle. Full of water and mud, the pail had almost broken the stout line by its weight.

Joe and Biff whooped with laughter. Joe gave the pail a kick that sent it back into the water again.

"Some fish!"yelled Joe.

"It wasn't a whale. It was a pail!"

Chet glared at his companions.

"I'll show you!" he said.

He baited his hook and again cast in his line. Immediately there was a lively wrench. Chet gave the line a twitch, and this time he did catch a fish. The only drawback to his enjoyment lay in the fact that it was only about four inches long.

"A sardine!" grinned Joe.

However, Chet placed his capture beside the other fish, just as proudly as though it were a ten-pounder.

"It isn't any fault that I caught it before it had time to grow a little more. It might just as easily have been a big one," he said.

The fishing became cold sport after a while, inasmuch as the boys were obliged to stay in

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the one place and could not move around enough to get exercise. They soon began to feel the cold and before long began to await the sound of the dinner bell. This, as Frank had warned them, would be achieved by banging the poker against a tin pan.

"Well, if our supplies are stolen again, we can live on fish," remarked Joe cheerfully.

"Not if we depend on Chet to catch them for us," said Biff. "I'm sure we wouldn't make much of a meal out of that whale he caught. A little bit tough for my taste.''

Chet was just thinking up a retort in kind when they heard the welcome clatter of the tin pan. With one accord, they hauled in their lines, seized the fish they had caught, and raced madly back to the shore, scrambled headlong up the slope and breathlessly plunged into the cabin.

"What's the matter!" asked Frank, as they made their hurried entry. "Somebody chasing you T"

"Hunger is chasing us!" declared Chet.

"Dinner is ready. Wash up and hop to it."

They needed no second invitation. Frank opened the oven door and a delicious odor of browned chicken permeated the cabin. The Christmas pudding, which Mrs. Hardy had prepared before the boys left Bayport, was al-steaming, and the table was loaded high

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with good things, pickles, potatoes, "and all the trimmings."

The boys later vowed that of all the Christmas dinners they had ever eaten, with all due respect to the dinners they had sat down to at home, the one that would remain longest in their memories would be the Christmas feast they devoured during their outing on Cabin Island.

The afternoon they spent quietly, trying out their skis on the sloping hillsides on the eastern side of the island. This exhilarating sport made the hours pass quickly, and when the winter twilight fell the boys returned to the cabin, weary and happy.

"The best Christmas ever!" they voted it.

"Well," said Frank, as they sat about the fireplace that evening, "the man who lost the notebook didn't show up to-day."

"He'll be back," said Joe.

"And we'll be ready for him."

"Perhaps he hasn't missed it yet," suggested Biff.

"Perhaps not. What I'm afraid of," Frank said, "is that he won't consider it important enough to come back for."

"Important! Why, the cipher is in it!" exclaimed Joe.

"Yes, but he knows the cipher by heart, no doubt. And the very fact that the message ia

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in cipher will protect him. He knows that if we do chance to find the notebook, it will be a hundred chances to one that we '11 never be able to find out what it means. He may not worry about losing the notebook after all."

The boys were thoughtful.

"We may never catch him, then?"

"I hope so," said Frank. "But we can't count on it too strongly."

'' We '11 get him,'' Joe declared. '' That message had something to do with Cabin Island. The man will be back here anyway, notebook or no notebook, I'm dead sure."