The boys clustered on the shore watched with their hearts in their throats, so to speak, for they realized that the crisis was at hand.
Dick took a fresh grip on Fred’s hand.
“Up you come, old fellow! Do your level best this time, and it’s going to be all right! That’s the ticket! Whoop! here you are as safe as could be!”
Loud shouts arose from Leslie and the rest of the group when they saw the dripping Fred emerge from the water, and gain a position on the first plank. The treacherous ice did not break under his weight because the fence board covered such a wide section that it was evenly distributed.
“Can you creep along after me, Fred?” demanded Dick.
“Sure thing!” came the reply, though Fred could hardly speak on account of the way his teeth were rattling together.
Of course Dick kept close watch over his shoulder from time to time as he headed for the shore; but Fred managed to get to his feet presently, and hurried along after his rescuer.
He was greeted boisterously by the other fellows. No one chided him on account of his reckless act; they were all too full of gratitude over the rescue to think of “rubbing it in.”
“Now make a bee-line for home as fast as you can run,” advised Dick, after he and Leslie had unfastened the skates from Fred’s shoes. “Keep swinging your arms and coming down hard with your feet as you run. Hurry, the ice is beginning to form on your shoes and clothes!”
With that Fred started off on the run. He was shivering, and still weak from his recent experience, and while knowing what a fright it would give his mother to see him coming home in that condition, he also understood that he must get into dry clothes as soon as possible, or suffer serious results.