“Look out! Look out! Keep away from that edge of the bank!” shouted Elmer and several of his companions. But as unheeding as before, the girl kept on, appeared to stagger a moment as she struck the depression, and then sank to the ice.
First, in blank dismay, and then in anger, the rich boy who had seemed to be the favored one among Viola’s friends stared at her, and finally, with a mumbled exclamation, skated toward her.
“You did that on purpose!” he snarled, as, stooping over, he took hold of Viola’s arm to assist her to her feet.
At the words, the blood flushed hotly to the girl’s cheeks and indignantly she wrenched her arm from Elmer’s grasp.
“How dare you say such a thing to me, Elmer Craven!” she exclaimed angrily. “Even if I have sprained my ankle, I am quite capable of getting up by myself,” and forthwith she proceeded so to do.
In the excitement caused by Viola’s fall, coming as it did after the two leaders in the boys’ race had been put out of the running by similar accidents, those who had been watching the girls’ race were too absorbed in their efforts to urge on their favorites, now that all had practically an even chance of winning, for, in her endeavor not to meet a similar mishap to Viola, Mildred had skated so far to one side that she had lost the lead, so that none of them had seen the trick save Nettie and Harry.
Both of them, however, were too far away to hear what passed between the boy and girl, but as Nettie saw her chum limp when she tried to skate after picking herself up, she gave up the race and went to her assistance.
“What is it? Have you hurt yourself?” she asked, solicitously.
“It’s my ankle. I’m afraid I’ve sprained it.”
“Really?”