"Go on, you pup!" grumbled the man with the knife. "Now, we'll try to get help to the man!"
Fred was not too far spent to flash angrily at that taunt.
"You'd better be careful whom you speak to like that!" snarled
Ripley. "You're a low-bred fellow, anyway!"
But the man who had slashed the rope free didn't even hear. He had turned toward Darrin, to make sure that Dave could draw the rope toward him fast enough.
"One of you people get Ripley's skates off for him, and help him ashore," called Tom Reade.
"Why don't you?" some one in the crowd answered.
"Because my job," retorted Reade, "is keeping my eyes on my chum, ready to help if anything comes up that I can do."
Four or five hurried to Fred's aid. He had been walking on his skates, which, at best, is an awkward style of locomotion. Two men held him up, while two of the H.S. boys quickly took off his skates. After that Fred, leaning on one of the H.S. boys, made much quicker time to the shore.
Here a man with a sleigh waited.
"Pile him in here," directed the driver. "Dr. Gilbert has gone up to the Avery House and is getting things ready. I'll have Ripley back in a jiffy."