“Like a frozen tub of blueing,” whispered Marian.
“Sh!” warned Lucile.
“Now, let’s have the water.”
Florence took one of the teakettles and poured the hot water into the hole she had cut.
As they stood there staring with all their eyes, they thought they made out the outline of something.
“Like a dream picture on the movie screen,” whispered Marian.
Lucile pinched her arm.
“A face,” came from Mark.
Suddenly Lucile gasped, wavered, and all but sank down upon the ice.
“The face!” she cried in a muffled scream. “The horrible blue face.”