Van Mounen turned mysteriously to Ben.
"Didn't he have a fit once?"
"My goodness! yes!" answered Ben, in a great fright.
"Then, depend upon it, he's been taken with one in the Museum!"
The boys caught his meaning. Every skate was off in a twinkling. Peter had the presence of mind to scoop up a cap-full of water from the hole, and off they scampered to the rescue.
Alas! They did indeed find poor Jacob in a fit—but it was a fit of sleepiness. There he lay in a recess of the gallery, snoring like a trooper! The chorus of laughter that followed this discovery brought an angry official to the spot.
"What now! None of this racket! Here, you beer-barrel, wake up!" and Master Jacob received a very unceremonious shaking.
As soon as Peter saw that Jacob's condition was not serious, he hastened to the street to empty his unfortunate cap. While he was stuffing his handkerchief to prevent the already frozen crown from touching his head, the rest of the boys came down, dragging the bewildered and indignant Jacob in their midst.
The order to start was again given. Master Poot was wide awake at last. The ice was a little rough and broken just there, but every boy was in high spirits.
"Shall we go on by the canal or the river?" asked Peter.