"Oh, Mr. Haley! You must take me down there. Won't you?"
Marty ran out again, and heard what she said. "Where you goin'?" he demanded. "Mr. Haley can't ice boat you to Middletown."
"To the Landing," begged Janice.
"By jinks! so he can," shouted the boy. "Lemme go, too, Mr. Haley. You'll want somebody to 'tend sheet on the Fly-by-Night."
"But I do not understand?" queried the teacher, staring from one to the other of the excited pair.
"You—you tell him, Marty!" said Janice, turning toward the door. "I must put these beautiful flowers in water. Come in, Mr. Haley, and get warm."
But the teacher remained out there on the windswept porch while he listened to what Marty had to tell. The girl's trouble struck home to the generous-hearted young man. He was moved deeply for her—especially upon a day like this when, in the nature of things, all persons should be joyous and glad.
"I will take you to the Landing, if the breeze holds fair," he declared and he pooh-poohed Mrs. Day's fears that there was any danger in sailing the ice boat. He had come up from the Landing himself the night before in an hour and a half.
"What a dreadful, dreadful way to spend Christmas Day!" moaned Aunt 'Mira, as she helped Janice to dress. "Something's likely to happen to that ice boat. I've seen 'em racing on the lake. Them folks jest take their lives in their han's—that's right!"
"I'll make the boys take care," Janice promised.