HARRY EVENS OLD SCORES
It seemed to Roy many long minutes before he ceased to sink and was
able to struggle upward again to the surface and daylight. Luckily
the current was sluggish at that point and when he came up he found
himself in the pool of broken ice. Afterward, remembering how thin that
ice proved to be, he wondered that it had held him for as long as it
had. But now, gasping for breath, choking and numbed with the cold,
his only thought was to find something to support him until help came.
He gave no outcry, it never occurred to him to do so, nor, for that
matter, had he breath for it. Weighted with skates and heavy clothing,
including the thick crimson sweater which he usually wore, he was
seriously handicapped from the start. And to make matters worse, the
thin ice broke under the slightest weight he put upon it. If he could
keep himself afloat long enough to break his way to the side of the
cutting and reach the thick ice he might hold on until some one reached
him. But the chill in his body threatened cramp every instant and made
him feel as weak as a kitten. Gasping and choking, he fought hard,
smashing the ice with one mittened hand and using the other to keep
himself afloat. Now and then, in spite of his efforts, the water with
its scum of floating ice fragments rose across his face, and each time
a dreadful fear gripped him. But he thrashed and fought his way back
again and again, each struggle leaving him weaker than before. There
was no time to look for succor; he saw only the horrid brittle surface
against which he battled. He could not tell whether he was working
toward thick ice or not.
By degrees hopelessness seized him and he began to feel indifferent;
the lower part of his body seemed to have left him; he believed that
he was working his legs in an effort to tread water, but there was no
sensation there. Once he stopped struggling, and only when the water
had closed over his eyes did he realize that he was sinking. Then,
terror mastering him, he fought blindly and impotently for an instant.
But the effort did not last; he was too weak now to even break the
imprisoning ice; a pleasant lassitude crept over him. It was no use, he
told himself; he was going to give up. And having reached that decision
he experienced a delicious sensation of relief. He had no thought of
drowning; he was merely going to rest, to sleep; and he was glad,
because he could not remember ever having been so dead tired! And then
two things happened simultaneously; he heard his name called and found
his fingers tightening about something that was not ice, something
that did not break and dissolve in his grasp. With a sudden return to
his senses he opened his eyes, said “Hello, Harry,” quite calmly and
closed them again. He did not remember much about it after that.
When Roy had shouted Harry had heard and waved to him. She was already
skating toward him, although a long distance away, and when, an instant
later, she had looked again to find only empty ice where he had been
she realized instantly what had happened. With a shrill cry of warning
to Dick, some distance behind, she flew onward, skating harder than
she had ever skated before. But the wind was almost dead ahead of her
and seemed to be striving to beat her back with its savage blasts. She
repeated a little prayer to herself over and over as she sped along,
in time to the ringing of her skates: “Please, God, let me be in time!
Please, God, let me be in time!” And presently, as she drew near, she
saw Roy’s head above the surface and was sure that her prayer would be
answered. Off came the brown sweater with the white F. H. upon it and
away blew Harry’s tam-o’-shanter across the ice. And then she was down
on her knees, crawling anxiously across the edge of the treacherous
surface.
[Illustration: “Harry caught her sweater by the end of one sleeve and
tossed it toward him”]
Roy, with white face and closed eyes, his light brown hair plastered
down upon his forehead, was beating the air feebly with his hands. With
a silent prayer for success Harry caught her sweater by the end of one
sleeve and tossed it toward him. It fell beside his hand but the wind
whipped it past. Again she tried, calling his name as she did so, and a
corner of the sweater fell under his grasping fingers and with relief
she felt the garment strain and tighten. Roy opened his eyes and looked
at her; even smiled a little, she thought; and said her name. Then she
was putting all her strength into keeping her place, for he had closed
his eyes again and seemed bent upon pulling her after him into the
water. But help was close at hand. With a shout of encouragement Sid
came racing up, followed breathlessly by Chub and Dick.
“Hold on a minute more,” cried Dick. “Get hold of my legs, Chub, and
I’ll work out to him.”
But even after Dick had seized Roy firmly by the hands and was himself
lying half in the water it was no easy task for the others. Chub had
Dick by the ankles and Sid held onto Chub, but it was slow work getting
back to solid ice. Yet in the end they succeeded, and Roy, dripping and
unconscious, lay safe.
“Is he dead?” whispered Sid brokenly.
“Not a bit of it,” Dick panted. “But we’ve got to get him home mighty
quick or he will catch cold and have pneumonia and all sorts of
things.” As he spoke he peeled off his sweater and wrapped it around
Roy’s shoulders. “Let me have yours, you fellows,” he commanded.
“Look!” cried Harry. “There’s the ice-boat!”
Chub’s signaling was unnecessary, however, for the two occupants of the
boat had already seen the catastrophe and were headed toward the group.
Harry’s sweater, as well as Chub’s and the two worn by Sid, were
thrown over Roy, and Dick and Chub were rubbing and slapping him when
the ice-boat rounded to and came up into the wind with flapping sail.
“Want any help?” asked one of the occupants.
“Yes, we want to get him home right away,” answered Dick. “Can you take
him aboard and get him to the Ferry Hill landing?”
“Sure! You pile out, Bob. Lift him in here, will you? There isn’t much
room, but I guess you can get him on somehow. That’s the ticket. Shove
her nose around, Bob. All right! I’ll meet you over there!”
The sail filled and the boat, with Roy lying like a log in the tiny
cockpit and Joe Thurston crouched beside him, leaped away. The others,
shouting their thanks to the marooned Bob, who, having no skates,
decided to stay where he was until his chum returned to pick him up,
hurried after the boat. At any other time they would have felt the
cold terribly, deprived as they were of their sweaters, but just now
they were far too excited. All talked at once as they raced along and
Harry was forced to listen to much enthusiastic praise of her pluck and
readiness. When they reached the landing the boat was up on the beach
and Joe Thurston had lugged Roy into the boat-house, where, warmed by
the piled-up sweaters, he was beginning to take an interest in life
once more. He waved a hand at them as they entered, but he still looked
pretty white and weak.
“Well, you’re a fine one, aren’t you?” asked Chub in simulated disgust.
“What were you trying to do? Commit suicide?”
“You mustn’t scold him!” cried Harry. “He almost drowned!”
“I guess I would have if it hadn’t been for you,” said Roy soberly.
“Thanks, Harry; you’re a trump.”
“Oh, don’t mention it,” answered Harry flippantly, to hide the fact
that her lip was trembling. “Besides, I just evened things up. You
know,” she explained, turning to Dick, “I might have burned up to a
cinder last winter if it hadn’t been for Roy. My dress caught on fire
at an entertainment we gave and I came pretty near frizzling, I guess.”
“That’s so,” said Chub. “You two are even now.”
“Besides,” added Harry, “I didn’t do anything much, after all. It was
Dick and the others who got you out.”
“If it hadn’t been for you,” said Dick, “he wouldn’t have been there
when we reached the place. I didn’t know anything about it until I
heard Harry scream. Then I saw her hitting the high places down the
river and guessed what was up. Say, Harry, you sure did skate some!”
“I guess I’d better be getting back,” said Joe Thurston, edging toward
the door. “Bob will be frozen if I don’t. I hope you’ll be all right,”
he added to Roy.
“Thanks; and I’m awfully much obliged to you for bringing me across,”
answered Roy.
“That’s so,” said Dick. “It was mighty nice of you. Want any help with
the boat?” Joe protested that he didn’t. At the door he hesitated and
finally asked, looking at Dick:
“Say, are you the fellow that came to our school and left?” Dick nodded.
“I’m the chap,” he said. “Why?”
“Oh, nothing,” was the reply. “Only--” and this was said over his
shoulder as he went out--“only I’m sorry you didn’t stay!”
“Cheeky cuss!” muttered Sid.
“I think he meant it for a compliment,” laughed Chub.
“Of course he did!” exclaimed Harry. “And I think he’s a real nice boy,
and I’m going to tell his sister so. It’s too bad he goes to Hammond,
isn’t it?”
“Why don’t you kidnap him too?” asked Chub mischievously.
“Now what are we going to do with you, Roy?” interrupted Dick. “Want a
carriage or an automobile? Or do you think you can walk if we give you
a boost now and then?”
“Of course I can walk! And look here, you fellows, I don’t see that
it’s necessary for people to know about this, is it?”
“I guess the fellows’ll find out pretty quick,” said Chub.
“Well, don’t you go and tell them. How about you, Harry?”
“I won’t say anything unless some one asks me,” said Harry.
“That’s all right, then,” said Roy. “Here, take some of these sweaters;
you folks must be freezing to death. I’m as warm as toast now.”
“Doesn’t make any difference,” Dick declared. “You keep as many of
those around you as you can. And when you get up the hill you sneak up
to the dormitory and lie down and keep warm until supper time.”
“You ought to have some peppermint tea,” said Harry. “I’ll make some
and give it to Chub to take over to you. It’ll warm you up inside
beautifully!”
The program was carried out as arranged, and, save that for the rest of
the evening Roy felt rather played out, he experienced no unpleasant
results from his adventure. Of course the meeting of the F. H. S. I. S.
called for that evening did not take place, for although Roy professed
his readiness to attend, the others would not hear of it.
“You’ve had a shock,” declared Harry firmly, “and must be very careful
of yourself for several days. I’ll make some more peppermint tea for
you to-morrow, and, and--what are you making such a face about?”
“Oh, nothing, only couldn’t you manage to get a little sugar into it
the next time?”
“Didn’t I put any--” began Harry. “Oh, I didn’t, did I? I’m awfully
sorry, Roy! Was it terribly nasty?”
“Well, there are some things I haven’t tasted,” answered Roy
judicially, “but it was pretty bad, Harry.”
“I forgot all about the sugar,” Harry mourned, “but I’ll put in enough
the next time to make up!”
As Chub had predicted, the story of Roy’s accident and rescue was all
over school on Monday, while on Wednesday a graphic and highly-colored
account of it appeared in the Silver Cove paper. One result was that
Harry found herself once more in the glare of publicity at Madame
Lambert’s School and another was that Doctor Emery promulgated a rule
restricting skating on the river to the immediate vicinity of the
boat-house.
On Monday forenoon at eleven there was a full attendance of the
Improvement Society in the barn. It was such a busy meeting that it
is quite impossible to give an account of it in detail. Strange to
say, every one had tried his or her hand at composing an appeal to
the graduates, just as they had agreed to do, and each one read his
production aloud and listened good-naturedly to the criticisms from the
others which followed.
“What we’ve got to do now,” said Dick, “is take these four and work
them over into one. But I suppose there isn’t much hurry about that,
because we decided that the best way to begin is to make an appeal to
some chap with a lot of money and get him to give a lump as a starter.
To do that we’ve got to find out who the rich ones are. That means
taking the Doctor into the scheme the next thing. So I move that Roy
and Chub be appointed a committee of two to wait on him this afternoon,
or as soon as possible, and tell him about it. And Harry and I will get
to work on this circular.”
“Well,” said Chub, “if I must I must, but it seems to me that Dick
ought to take my place because he can talk a lot better and explain the
thing.”
[Illustration: “There was a full attendance of the Improvement
Society”]
“Let Roy do most of the talking,” advised Dick. “I have no objection to
taking your place, only you’re an old boy here and I’ve just come; he’d
pay more attention to what you said.”
“All right,” sighed Chub. “I’m the goat.”
“And Roy’s the goatee,” added Dick.
“Well, let’s do it this afternoon,” said Roy, “and get it over with.”
“Yes,” said Dick, “and we’ll meet again here this evening and hear the
committee’s report.”
“Hooray!” cried Chub. “That’s me! I’m a Committee!”
“You’re only half a one,” Roy objected. “I appoint myself chairman of
the committee.”
“Seconded,” said Chub. “The chairman does the talking, doesn’t he?”
“Don’t forget to tell papa that we’ve elected him honorary president,”
reminded Harry. “That will please him, I know.”
“Bet you he’ll kick us out!” murmured Chub.
“Don’t you worry,” laughed Dick. “Roy, as chairman, will receive all
the honors. You can dodge.”
Methuselah, who up to this point had been huddled silently in a corner
of his box, with only one beady eye showing, began to chuckle softly.
“Hello,” said Dick, “old ’Thuselah’s awake. I thought he was frozen up.
Hello, you old rascal!”
The parrot put his head on one side and walked slowly to the front of
the box.
“Howdy do?” he muttered.
“Pretty well, thanks,” answered Chub. “How are you?”
“Stop your swearing,” replied Methuselah severely. “Can’t you be quiet?”
“Well, that’s a nice way to answer a polite inquiry,” said Chub. “You
ought to teach him better manners, Harry.”
“I can’t teach him anything,” mourned Harry. “He knew all he knows now
when I got him. Roy and I tried one day to--”
“Roy,” observed Methuselah slowly, experimentally. Then, as though to
hide his embarrassment, “Well, I never did!” he shrieked. The four
stared at each other in astonishment. Harry found her voice first.
“That’s the first new thing he’s ever said!” she whispered in awe.
“See if he will say it again,” Dick suggested. But in spite of all
their coaxing Methuselah was obdurate. You would have thought he had
never heard the word in his life, much less pronounced it.
“Well, it shows who’s the favorite, anyhow,” laughed Chub.
Harry blushed a little and answered quickly:
“That’s because Roy has been nice to him, and doesn’t make fun of him.”
“Maybe,” teased Chub, “but I notice he doesn’t break out with my name
or Dick’s. And Dick just loves him; don’t you, Dick?”
“Of course I do,” answered Dick, walking over and rubbing Methuselah’s
head through the slats. “We’re pretty good friends considering that we
haven’t known each other very--_Ouch! Great guns!_”
“What’s the matter?” laughed Roy.
“Why, he pretty near bit my finger off! ’Thuselah, you’re a hypocrite.
After this when you want your old top-knot scratched you ask Roy; I’m
through with you.”
“Did he hurt you much?” asked Harry anxiously.
“No,” said Dick, “he just nipped me.”
“Oh, that was just a love-nip,” said Chub. “That’s the way he shows his
affection. He’s so fond of me that I have to keep away from him; I was
getting all black-and-blue spots!”
“You’re a naughty ’Thuselah,” said Harry sternly. “For that you shall
go to bed. Good-night.”
She let the piece of canvas fall over the front of the box. For a
moment there was silence. Then came a subdued rustling followed by
insulted mutterings:
“Well, I never did!” croaked Methuselah.
“Is the meeting over?” asked Chub. “Because I’ve got about two minutes
to find my books and get to class.”
“Yes,” answered Dick. “It’s adjourned until to-night at eight o’clock.”
“Then I’m off! This half of the committee has duties!”