The tall pitcher’s plan was at once adopted. Wrapped in the boys’ coats, the girls were lifted up on the hands of the lads in the old familiar fashion, and then the journey to the farmhouse was begun, Mabel and Helen having preceded the little party.
“Come right in!” invited an elderly woman as she stood in the doorway. “We’ll soon have you as warm as toast. You boys bring in some more wood. Oh, it’s too bad! I’ll soon have some hot lemonade for ’em. You must get your wet things off, dearies.”
She was a motherly old soul, and with the assistance of her daughter, and Mabel and Helen, the half-drowned ones were soon fairly comfortable, while generous potions of hot lemonade warded off possible colds.
“It all happened so suddenly,” said Ruth when, some little time later, her brother and his chums were admitted to the room where the two girls were wrapped in blankets, and sitting in big chairs before a roaring fire. “We were skating on when, all of a sudden, the ice gave way, and Madge and I found ourselves in the water. Oh, I thought we would come up under the ice, and have to stay there until——” She stopped with a shudder.
“Don’t talk about it, Ruth dear,” begged her chum.
“It’s a good thing the boys were so close,” spoke Mabel. “They came like the wind, but, even then, I thought they would never get there.”
“I wonder if we can go back to school?” ventured Ruth.
“Certainly not,” decided her brother. “You must be kept good and warm, and——”
“But, Phil dear, perhaps they haven’t room here for us, and——”