'Finish your lunch, sonny, and we'll be moving; your theories are quite beyond me.'
So they took to the ice again, and Bobby flew here and there on his skates, one of the jolliest little figures to be seen.
Later in the afternoon a certain piece of the ice was roped off as being unsafe. Mr. Allonby warned the children not to go near it; and then, only a short time afterwards, a cry and a crash startled everyone near. A daring schoolboy had ventured beyond the rope and crashed through the ice into deep water. Mr. Allonby was close by with Bobby; in an instant he had dashed forwards, and after a breathless minute or two to Bobby, and before others had hardly taken in what was happening, he had dragged the boy safely up again. But, to Bobby's horror, as his father was coming back, the ice gave way in a fresh place under his feet, and he disappeared.
The child raised an agonising cry.
'Father's drowing! Father's drowing!'
Then ensued wild confusion. Ladies shrieked and rushed to the banks, there were loud cries for a ladder or a rope, but, as is often the case in private places, none were forthcoming in the spot in which they were required. In an instant one little figure went to the rescue, strong in his own willingness to save. He reached his father first. Holding out Nobbles to him, he cried:
'Catch hold, quick, quick, father! I'll pull you out! Oh, catch hold!'
Mr. Allonby was struggling to raise himself, but the ice kept breaking under his grip.
'Go back!' he shouted to Bobby. 'Go back!
But for once the child disobeyed.