The youngsters who had been playing hockey so recklessly near the thin ice, were not as old as Nan and Bess, and the accident had thrown them into utter confusion. Some skated for the shore, screaming for ropes and fence-rails; others only tried to get away from the danger spot themselves. None did the first thing to help their comrade who had broken through the ice.
“Where are you going, Nan?” gasped Bess, pulling back. “You'll have us both in the water, too.”
“We can save him! Quick!” returned her chum eagerly.
She let go of Bess and unwound the long muffler from about her own neck. “If we could only see him!” the girl said, over and over.
And then a brilliant idea struck Nan Sherwood, and she turned to shout to old Peter Newkirk on the shore. “Peter! Peter! Turn on the electric light sign! Turn it on so we can see where he's gone in!”
The watchman had all his wits about him. There was a huge electric sign on the stamp works roof, advertising the company's output. The glare of it could be seen for miles, and it lit up brilliantly the surroundings of the mill.
Peter Newkirk bounded away to the main door of the works. The switch that controlled the huge sign was just inside that door. Before Nan and Bess had reached the edge of the broken ice, the electricity was suddenly shot into the sign and the whole neighborhood was alight.
“I see him! There he is!” gasped Nan to her chum. “Hold me tight by the skirt, Bess! We'll get him!”
She flung herself to her knees and stopped sliding just at the edge of the old, thick ice. With a sweep of her strong young arm she shot the end of the long muffler right into the clutching hands of the drowning boy.
Involuntarily he seized it. He had been down once, and submersion in the ice water had nearly deprived him of both consciousness and power to help save himself. But Nan drew him quickly through the shattered ice-cakes to the edge of the firm crystal where she knelt.