“And the pond is higher than ever this year, don’t forget, which means more room to paddle in if you do break through,” he was warned by Peg.
“You never knew me to get caught yet,” laughed the other, who had a stubborn streak in his makeup. “The secret of my success has been the swallow way I dart around. The new ice will bend like india-rubber, but before it can think of cracking, shucks! I’m away off, and still going.”
“There comes Dick, and from the grin on his face I’d like to wager a cookey he’s just half tickled to death over something,” ventured Leslie, whose quick eye had detected his chum’s approach.
Dick had his skates suspended by a strap over his shoulder. Perhaps he did not really expect to have a chance to use them, but then it always made him feel hopeful to get them out for the first time of a crisp winter morning.
“What’s happened, Dick?” demanded one of the boys, as the other came up.
“You look as happy as pie,” remarked Peg; “has some kind relative gone to a better country, and left you his little fortune?”
“Oh! it only means that a great big load has been lifted from my shoulders, that’s all,” Dick told them.
“I know what he means, fellows!” sang out Leslie. “He’s finished that farce of his at last. Bully for you, Dick; I knew you’d stick everlastingly at it till the thing was done. And I hope you let us hear it from beginning to end.”
“I handed it over to the committee this very morning,” announced Dick. “The time limit expires on Monday, you know. They said all of the entries were in but two, and from what I’ve heard about Toby and Frank I’m afraid they backed out after making a try.”
“But that’s too bad,” expostulated Peg, “because we all hoped to hear you read your farce before the committee decided on the winner.”