“Yes, but you’d think right away of dynamite,” laughed Dick.
“I suppose you would if you had no more poetry or romance in your soul than you have, you wild Westerner!”
“Isn’t there a bird that lives on ice?” asked Harry suddenly.
“Never heard of one,” Roy laughed. “He’d get cramps.”
“I mean that lives where there’s nothing but ice, Smarty,” said Harry indignantly.
“Quit your fooling,” said Chub. “Estrella De Vere is in earnest. You are quite right, Harry. The little bird you are thinking of is the ice-pick. It makes its nest in refrigerators and lives on lemon ice-cream and pineapple sherbet.”
“I think you’re all horrid,” said Harry. “There is a bird, Dick, isn’t there?”
“Which plucks the feathers from its own breast and makes them into eiderdown quilts,” added Chub. “We will call the boat the _Eiderdown Quilt_.”
“Oh, cut it out, Chub,” said Roy. “Talk sense, can’t you?”
“Well, so far we’ve got only one worth considering,” said Dick. “That’s _North Wind_. What do you think of it?”
“Can’t think of anything better, any of you?”
“Well, we don’t have to decide on it yet,” said Dick. “And maybe we’ll think of something else before Saturday. I’m going up-stairs; any one coming?”
“Estrella De Vere has got an idea,” chanted Chub.
“I know the very thing,” went on Harry with sparkling eyes.
The three boys looked at each other inquiringly.
“That’s not half bad, is it?” asked Dick. “Boreas was--was--who was he?”
“He was the north wind,” said Chub. “He’s in mythology, you know.”
“I like it,” Roy declared. “It sounds sort of blustery and cold and--and--”
“_Boreas_ it is!” said Dick with decision. Chub leaped up and seized Harry’s hand and shook it enthusiastically.
“I congratulate you,” he said earnestly. “You have won the prize and won’t have to risk your life on the boat!”
“But it’s a good name, isn’t it, Dick?” Harry asked eagerly.
“Fine,” Dick replied. “I had a feeling all along that you would be the one to find a name for us.”
“Well, what do you think of that?” asked Chub indignantly. “I could have suggested Boreas long ago, only I wanted to give Harry a chance to save her life.”
“Now we’ve got a name,” said Roy, “all that remains is to get the boat. I wish it was next Saturday now, Dick.”
“So do I,” Chub chimed in. “Three cheers for the _Boreas_!”