"Help!" shouted Clive, and at once set about a rescue.
CHAPTER VI
CLIVE AND HIS FRIENDS TRIUMPHANT
That shout for help brought a scurrying crowd swooping over the frozen surface of the lake toward the spot where the ice had broken. It was taken up by more than a hundred. Small boys—kids, as Masters scoffingly designated them—gave voice to the call in high-pitched falsettos. Those of the senior school gave ear to the calls, and bore down upon the spot in silence. Canning—Masters' bête noire—threw away his cigarette and scuttled over the ice at a rate which was marvellous. But Clive was there first, and we speak the truth when we say that he was flabbergasted. Talk about a fellow being trained to be ready to meet any emergency! Clive was out of the running. He hadn't an idea. For at least twenty seconds he stared at Susanne's face, peeping out of the water, as if the sight robbed him of reason. And then his inventive brain set to work.
"Hold on to the edge of the ice," he bellowed. "There's a ladder back over there. We'll send for it. Look out, I'm coming."
Susanne nodded cheerfully. He had his arm round the waist of the lady who had been immersed, and grinned at Clive.
"Hurry up, then," he bellowed. "Don't mind myself, you know, but there's the lady."
What was Trendall doing? Clive saw him grip in frenzied fashion at the ice and slip off. He made another effort, and then stretched his arms over his head. Was he sinking? wondered Clive.
"Look out," he yelled, slipping to his knees and crawling toward the dark and jagged-edged hole. "Look out for Trendall."