“My father is a temperance man,” he said. “He won’t have a drop of booze around the ranch, for he’s seen the bad effects of it. One of our best men got his skin full and was lost in a norther. When they found him he was pretty near gone, and he lost both hands from that freeze—made him a cripple for life.”
“Oh, that was different,” said Bunk. “He had been drinking the real stuff; this is only cider.”
Nevertheless, Grant, preparing to clamp on his skates, firmly refused to touch the bottle again. Lander and Davis had another drink, and then they attached their own skates to their feet.
“I’m afraid,” Said Spotty, rising somewhat unsteadily, “that you’re a rather tame old cowboy, Rod. I’m afraid that’s why the fellers don’t take much stock in you. You duck at everything.”
“They’re welcome to take as little stock in me as they choose,” said Grant, a trifle warmly. “I came out here to learn to skate, not to guzzle old cider.”
They followed him onto the ice, and Spotty, attempting to do some fancy tricks, sprawled at full length, whereupon he sat up, whooping with laughter.
“Hold on, Grant,” called Lander, as Rod started off. “We’re going to give you further instructions, you know. Don’t mind Spotty. That upper story of his is so light he can’t keep his balance.”
“Never mind me,” returned Rodney; “I reckon I’ll get along all right.”
He was gratified to find he had lost none of the slight knack at skating acquired on the previous night, and this gave him so much confidence that he rapidly improved. At first his lame ankles protested, but they soon ceased their rebellion, and a sense of exhilaration came to him as he found himself swinging back and forth across the cove with fairly long strokes and remarkable steadiness. Nevertheless, he was annoyed by his companions, who persisted in following him and getting in his way, offering suggestions and making silly remarks. To get away from them he skated out toward the open lake.
Suddenly round Pine Point flashed a light, followed by another and another. Half a dozen boys, bearing torches, came upon Grant and his persistent mates ere they could escape. Three of the torch bearers were Eliot, Barker and Rollins. Berlin flashed the light of his torch upon them, and then, whirling to skate backwards as he went past, cried out to the others: