“How I wish I had him out here on the ice,” was Dale’s comment.
“Sure an’ we’d be after teachin’ him some foin points,” said Hogan. “We’d make him spread th’ eagle on his head, so we would!”
“Crabtree knows enough to keep off the ice,” said Jack. “Perhaps he can’t skate.”
“Mr. Strong is a beautiful skater,” said Pepper. “I saw him out day before yesterday. He cut some very fancy figures.”
“What a difference between those two men,” said Andy. “Just as much difference as between Baxter and—and Joe Nelson,” he added, naming a quiet and steady pupil, well liked by all of the cadets.
“Now, boys, for the last swing!” cried Jack. “Pepper, your turn on the end this time.”
“All right, but please don’t snap me into the middle of next week,” answered the fun-loving youth.
“We’ll snap you into the middle of next year!” cried Andy, gleefully. He wanted to square up with somebody for a tumble he had taken.
Away went the boys, in a long line, across the lake. All were shouting and cheering, the hills beyond the lake echoing with their glee. They did not attempt to make a sweep until all had gained good headway.
“Now then, all together!” came from Dale. “Let her go!”