“Are you positive they went out on the cove to slide, Mrs. Gormley?”
“Oh, yes, I be, Mandy,” answered the seamstress. “Chet said he was goin’ there, and what Chet says he’ll do, he always does.”
“Then the ice has broken away and they have been carried out into the lake,” groaned Mr. Stagg.
Mandy Parlow came quickly to the little hall.
“Perhaps not, Joseph,” she said, speaking directly to the hardware dealer. “It may be the storm. It snows so fast they would easily get turned around—be unable to find the shore.”
Another reverberating crash echoed from the cove. Mrs. Gormley wrung her hands.
“Oh, my Chet! Oh, my Chet!” she wailed. “He’ll be drowned!”
“He won’t be, if he’s got any sense,” snapped Mr. Stagg. “I’ll get some men and we’ll go after them.”
“Call the dog, Joseph Stagg. Call the dog,” advised Miss Amanda.
“Heh? Didn’t Prince go with ’em?”