But Tony did not go ahead. Neither did he discuss the matter, for argument of any kind was not at all in his way. He merely stopped and let go of Willie's hand. "It isn't safe," he persisted. "You can do as you like, but I am not going on it."

"Well, stay there," said Ned Marston, giving him a little shove—"stay where you are, General Washington, and cross the Delaware on dry land if you can."

"Three cheers for General Washington!" shouted Dick, derisively. "Hurrah for the bravest of the brave!" and then the three boys skated on, leaving Tony standing there upon the ice.

His face flushed crimson with shame, but he never stirred. He hated to be laughed at and called a coward, but he was afraid to venture, and no amount of ridicule could urge him on.

Slowly he turned to go, when at that instant an ominous sound struck his ear. The treacherous ice was cracking in all directions, a dozen jagged seams spreading like magic over the smooth surface. There was a sharp snap, a cry of terror, a splash, and three boys, white with fright, started back from the yawning hole, barely in time to save themselves from falling.

In the excitement and fear of that moment no one of them thought of his companion; but Tony, who stood beside, had seen poor Willie's despairing blue eyes fixed on him with a mute appeal for help as he staggered and fell into the dark water.

Somehow all his habitual caution, which was so falsely termed cowardice, had disappeared; he never even thought of being afraid, with that pitiful glance still before his eyes, but, urged on by some great impulse, cleared the space between them in an instant, and plunged down after his drowning friend.

Another minute and both boys re-appeared, Willie clutching fiercely at his preserver, and Tony holding him off as well as he could with one arm while he struck out bravely with the other.

It was but the work of a moment before help reached them, but that moment had saved poor Willie's life, and changed forever the opinions of the school.

They had learned what true courage was. Tony Butler might be timid and insignificant, but he had proved himself beyond a doubt worthy of his illustrious name, and a fit hero for the Twenty-second.