"Oh, cut it out! Can it!" ejaculated the East Side lad. "Your dad says No and he's the boss."
The ungracious retort Steve offered was lost amid the babel of laughter that followed, and the skaters darted away up the pond. Indeed, one could not long have cherished ill humor amid such radiant surroundings. There was too much sunshine, too much sparkle in the clear air; too much jollity and happiness. Almost before he realized it Stephen's irritation had vanished and he was speeding across the glassy surface of the ice as gay as the gayest of the company.
He never could explain afterward just how it happened that he found himself around the bend of the quarry and sweeping with the wind toward its farther end. He had not actually formulated the intention of slipping away from the others and invading this forbidden spot. Nevertheless, there he was alone in the tiny cove with no one in sight. What followed was all over in a moment,—the breaking ice and the plunge into the frigid water. The next he knew he was fighting with all his strength to prevent himself from being drawn beneath the jagged, crumbling edge of the hole. To clamber out was impossible, for every time he tried the thin ice would break afresh under his hands and submerge him again in the bitter cold of the moving stream. Over and over he tried to pull himself to safety but without success. Then suddenly he felt himself becoming numb and helpless. His teeth chattered and he could no longer retain his hold on the frail support that was keeping his head above water. He was slipping back into the river. He was not going to be able to get out!
With a piercing scream he made one last desperate lunge forward, and again the ice that held him broke and the water dashed over his ears and mouth.
When he next opened his eyes it was to find himself in his own bed with a confusion of faces bending over him.
"There!" he heard some one say in a very small, far-away voice. "He is coming to himself now, thank God! It was chiefly cold and fright. He is safe now, Tolman. Don't you worry! You'd better go and get off some of your wet clothing, or you will catch your death."
Mr. Ackerman was speaking.
"Yes, Henry, do go!" pleaded his wife.
