“Oh! I’m a wonder when it comes to skimming over thin ice,” boasted the other, really anxious to keep up to his reputation for recklessness, and once more open the season as the first to try his skates.
“Better keep near the shore, then,” advised Leslie. “If you do break through you will only be up to your waist, and can wade out.”
“Don’t worry!” scoffed Fred, as he balanced himself on one skate at the edge, and took a quick survey of the big pond, as though deciding upon his course, “I can swim if it comes to it, you know. And somebody has got to be the first to do stunts on the new ice.”
With that he suddenly darted away.
“Whee! listen to it crack, will you?” exclaimed Peg.
“Oh! new ice always does that,” asserted Leslie. “I like to hear it snap on a frosty morning like this. But say, you can see it bend like anything under his weight. I don’t believe I care to try it yet awhile. I’m more hefty in weight than Fred, and never could whip along like he does.”
The venturesome skater was going with the speed of the wind, and thus far he had kept within a reasonable distance from the shore. Apparently, he meant to go completely around the pond, leaving the white marks of his sharp runners on the clear ice, to prove himself the first on skates for the season.
“Just as fine as silk, fellows!” he called out as he approached the group. “Some of the rest of you had better take a spin along with me. Not a bit of danger if you keep on the jump.”
No one seemed tempted, however. They had seen how the thin ice gave under Fred as he went on, and knew that it was only the rapidity of his flight that kept him from breaking through. Should one of his skates become loose, so as to delay his progress, the chances were as ten to one he must meet with a catastrophe.
“I’m going to take another round!” called out Fred over his shoulder. “And then watch me cut straight across the middle of the pond.”