“We must go home early,” said Ruth after a bit. “We are to have a class meeting to-night, and I’m one of the hostesses.”
“Strictly a girls’ party?” asked Tom.
“No boys allowed,” was the laughing answer, and after some pleasantries the four girls started up the frozen surface of the stream, their escorts going down. The hockey games were over, and many of the players had taken off their skates. Turning to wave a farewell to Ruth and the others, Tom saw a solitary lad skating near them.
“There’s Shambler,” he thought. “I guess he’d like to do some lady-killing on his own account. I hope the girls don’t get skating with him.”
Tom, who had lingered a few moments, now spurted ahead to catch up to his companions, who were some distance in advance. He had almost reached them when he was aware of some one skating rapidly up behind him. He wheeled about to behold Shambler, with a white, set face, coming on like the wind. And, a second later, Tom heard the screams of the girls and saw but two where, a moment before, there had been four.
“What—what happened?” he gasped.
“They—they went through the ice I guess!” panted Shambler. “They were near me, and I heard it crack. I—I skated away—I wanted to get help. I—I——”
“You skated away!” thundered Tom. “Sid—Phil—fellows! The girls are through the ice—an air hole I guess—come on back! Shambler—Shambler skated away!” he murmured under his breath as he looked unutterable things at the new lad. “Come on, boys!”
There was a ring of steel on ice. Four figures turned and like the wind shot up the river, while Tom, in the lead, shouted:
“We’re coming—we’re coming. To the rescue! Keep away from the edge, girls!” He wanted to warn back the two who had not fallen in.