otch and tooth came in line with each other, then pushing the tooth
through the notch, and turning the washers so that the frame washer
hooked over the door washer. Then the door could be opened only when the
tooth and notch were brought in line.
On the head of each spool we pasted a disk of white cardboard, the edge
of which was graduated, as in Fig. 190. Then we had a secret
combination, say 11-19, which meant that when the spools were turned so
that the number 11 on the door spool came in line with the number 19 on
the frame spool the tooth and notch would be in line, and the door could
then be opened. Of course, this combination was known to the members of
the club only, and any one outside who tried to open the door might have
tried for some time without bringing the tooth and notch into line with
each other. Occasionally we changed the combination by loosening the
screws which held the washers, and turning them so that the notch and
tooth came opposite different numbers on the dials. This was done so
that if any one should chance to learn our combination he could not make
use of it very long.
CHAPTER XVI.
SCOOTERS.
"Hello, Dutchy! What in thunder have you got there?"
It was Bill who spoke. We were on our way home for the winter holidays,
and had been held up at Millville by Reddy Schreiner, who had informed
us that Dutchy was down by the river with the boat to give us a sail up
to Lamington.
A vision of a fleet ice boat skimming up the river at express train
speed swam before our eyes. But the next moment, as we turned the corner
into River Street, we were surprised by the sight of our old scow just
off the pier at anchor, and in open water. It was rigged up with a jib
and mainsail, which were flapping idly in the wind. It had also been
altered by decking over the top, with the exception of a small cockpit,
evidently for the purpose of keeping out the water when she heeled over
under the wind. We were disappointed and quite annoyed at not finding
the ice boat on hand; furthermore, our annoyance was considerably
heightened by Dutchy's broad grin of evident delight at our
discomfiture. "The river wasn't all frozen over," he explained, "and we
couldn't bring the ice boat down, so we rigged up the scow and she came
down splendidly."
A SAIL IN THE SCOW.
There was nothing to do but to jump in, though I, for one, would have
taken the train in preference had there been one inside of two hours.
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