“He looks like a winner,” commented Bruce quietly.
Tom brought the iceboat up to his chums, and they got aboard. Jack steered while Tom took off the skates he had not had time to remove, and then he went to where he had dropped the little sail.
“I guess we’ll get along without it,” he remarked. “We’re going fast enough.”
“I never thought you’d get the boat in time,” spoke Bruce admiringly. “Where’d you learn to skate, Fairfield?”
“Oh, I could make pretty good time ever since I was a small lad, but I sort of broke my record today, I guess.”
They were soon back at the boathouse, having talked on the way of the little accident and of Tom’s skill.
“You’ll enter for the class races, won’t you?” inquired Reddy Burke of Tom, a little later, when Bruce had told of the Freshman’s skill.
“I’ll be glad to.”
“They’ll come off in about a week if the ice holds,” went on the red-haired athlete.