“He’s laughin—just as broad as he can laugh, Car’lyn May,” chuckled Chet. “All ready, now?”
“Oh, we’re all right, Chet,” the little girl cried gaily.
The boy harnessed himself with the long tow-rope and skated away from the shore, dragging the sled after him at a brisk pace. Chet was a fine skater, and although the surface of the ice was rather spongy he had no difficulty in making good time towards the mouth of the cove.
“Oh, my!” squealed Carolyn May, “there isn’t anybody else on the ice.”
“We won’t run into nobody, then,” laughed the boy.
There were schooners and barges and several steam craft tied up at the docks. These had been frozen in all winter. They would soon be free, and lake traffic would begin again.
It was too misty outside the cove to see the open water; but it was there, and Chet knew it as well as anybody. He had no intention of taking any risks—especially with Carolyn May in his charge.
The wind blew out of the cove, too. As they drew away from the shelter of the land they felt its strength. It was not a frosty wind. Indeed, the temperature was rising rapidly, and, as Chet had said, there was a hint of spring in the air.
Naturally, neither the boy nor the little girl—and surely not the dog—looked back towards the land. Otherwise, they would have seen the snow flurry that swept down over the town and quickly hid it from the cove.
Chet was skating his very swiftest. Carolyn May was screaming with delight. Prince barked joyfully. And, suddenly, in a startling fashion, they came to a fissure in the ice!