TOM KEEPS SILENT
“Who is it? Who fell in?” gasped Phil, as he gained a place at Tom’s
side.
“I don’t know,” was the strained answer, as Tom gazed eagerly ahead to
make out the figures of the two girls, who, clinging together, stood
near the hole through which their companions had disappeared.
“Can’t you see who they are?” went on Phil, half piteously, appealing to
his chums. “Is--is----”
They knew what he meant, though he did not finish the sentence.
“It can’t be Ruth,” said Tom softly. “Ruth is standing there--with Madge
Tyler.”
Yet, even as he spoke, he knew that it was not so. For the two girls on
the ice, frantically turning to note the progress of the rescuing lads,
disclosed their faces to the hurrying quartette, and it was seen that
they were Mabel Harrison and Helen Newton.
“Ruth--Ruth is in the water!” gasped Phil, for he too saw now that his
sister was missing.
“And Miss Tyler!” added Frank.
Then, without another word, the four boys skated on as they had never
skated before, not even when a race was to be won--or lost. Tom gave a
glance back, and saw Shambler heading for the shore. A fierce wave of
anger swept over him, but he said nothing to his chums of the apparent
act of cowardice.
“Is she there? Holding on to the ice? Are they both there, girls?”
gasped Phil, as he covered the intervening distance between himself and
the two frightened girls.
“Oh, boys, hurry!” called Mabel. “They are both holding on to the ice,
but they can’t last much longer. It’s cracking all the while. We tried
to go near, but it bends with us!”
“Keep back! Keep back!” shouted Tom. “Don’t you two go in. Fence rails,
fellows! Fence rails are what we need!”
He and the others skated near enough to see the two girlish figures in
the water, clinging to the ragged edges of the icy hole.
“Ruth! Ruth! Can you hold on a little longer?” gasped Phil.
“Ye-e-e-s!” was the shivering answer.
“And you, Madge?” cried Tom.
“Yes, but be quick--as you can,” she said, and her voice was faint.
“Off with our skates! Lay the rails on the ice and they’ll support our
weight!” cried Sid, catching Tom’s idea, and leaping toward a fence on
shore.
It was done in a trice, and, a moment later several long rails were
stretched over the gaping hole. This gave firm support, and willing
hands and sturdy arms soon raised the two dripping figures from the
ice-cold water. The girls all but collapsed as they were dragged to
safety.
“What shall we do with ’em?” asked Frank, who, truth to tell, had
hitherto had little to do with girls.
“We must get them to some warm place at once!” cried Tom. “There’s a
house over there. Mabel, you and Helen run over and tell ’em to get the
fires good and hot, and have plenty of hot water. We’ll bring the girls
over. Come boys, off with our coats and wrap ’em up.”
“Oh, but you’ll get c-c-c-cold!” protested Madge.
“What of it?” cried Sid sharply, as he peeled off his thick jacket and
wrapped it around the shivering girl. His companions covered Ruth, and
then Tom had an idea.
“Make a chair, fellows!” he cried. “A chair with our hands, and two of
us can carry each girl. It’s the quickest way. Their dresses are
freezing now.”
The tall pitcher’s plan was at once adopted. Wrapped in the boys’ coats,
the girls were lifted up on the hands of the lads in the old familiar
fashion, and then the journey to the farmhouse was begun, Mabel and
Helen having preceded the little party.
“Come right in!” invited an elderly woman as she stood in the doorway.
“We’ll soon have you as warm as toast. You boys bring in some more wood.
Oh, it’s too bad! I’ll soon have some hot lemonade for ’em. You must get
your wet things off, dearies.”
She was a motherly old soul, and with the assistance of her daughter,
and Mabel and Helen, the half-drowned ones were soon fairly comfortable,
while generous potions of hot lemonade warded off possible colds.
“It all happened so suddenly,” said Ruth when, some little time later,
her brother and his chums were admitted to the room where the two girls
were wrapped in blankets, and sitting in big chairs before a roaring
fire. “We were skating on when, all of a sudden, the ice gave way, and
Madge and I found ourselves in the water. Oh, I thought we would come up
under the ice, and have to stay there until----” She stopped with a
shudder.
“Don’t talk about it, Ruth dear,” begged her chum.
“It’s a good thing the boys were so close,” spoke Mabel. “They came like
the wind, but, even then, I thought they would never get there.”
“I wonder if we can go back to school?” ventured Ruth.
“Certainly not,” decided her brother. “You must be kept good and warm,
and----”
“But, Phil dear, perhaps they haven’t room here for us, and----”
“Yes we have,” interrupted the woman. “I’ve plenty of spare beds. You
just make yourselves comfortable. Well, I declare, here comes Dr. Nash,”
and she looked out of the window as the medical man, who had been
summoned by Shambler, walked in the front yard. The physician continued
the treatment already so well begun, and said, with a good night’s
sleep, the young ladies would be none the worse off for the affair.
It was arranged that Mabel and Helen should go back to Fairview, to
report the accident, and that Madge and Ruth should remain at the
farmhouse over night. The boys, after making sure there was nothing more
they could do, took their leave.
“Whew! That was a mighty close call!” gasped Phil, when they were once
more skating toward Randall. “It gave me the cold shivers.”
“Same here,” added Tom.
“How’d you come to see ’em fall in?” asked Frank.
“I didn’t,” replied Tom. “I--er--some one told me.”
“Oh, yes, Shambler,” interposed Sid. “I wonder why he didn’t----”
Tom took a sudden resolve. It was within his power then to break
Shambler--utterly to destroy his reputation among his fellow-students,
for there was no doubt but that the new lad had acted the part of a
coward. And, as Tom thought of the mean actions of the fellow in the
gymnasium that afternoon, he was tempted to tell what he knew. Randall
was no place for cowards.
And yet----
Tom seemed to see himself back in the room with his chums. He saw them
lolling on the old sofa, or in the big chairs. He heard the ticking of
the fussy little alarm clock, and with that there seemed to come to him
a still, small voice, urging him to choose the better way--the more
noble way.
“Shambler,” repeated Frank, “he----”
“He saw us going to the rescue I guess,” put in Tom quietly. “He saw
that we could beat him skating and he--he ran for the doctor. It
was--the wisest thing he could do.”
“That’s so,” agreed Phil. “I didn’t think of that. I must thank Shambler
when I see him.”
Tom kept silent, but he thought deeply, and he knew that Phil’s thanks
would be as dead-sea apples to Shambler.
“Come on, let’s hit it up,” proposed Frank. “I’m cold.” And they skated
on rapidly.
They were soon at Randall, where the story of the rescue had preceded
them, and they were in for no end of congratulations and hearty claps on
the back.
“You fellows have all the luck,” complained Holly Cross. “I never
rescued a pretty girl yet.”
“No, Holly’s too bashful,” added Dutch Housenlager! “He’d want to be
introduced before he saved her life.”
“Or else he’d pass over his card, to introduce himself,” added Jerry
Jackson. “Then he’d tell her what college he was from, and want to know
whether she would have any serious objection to being pulled from the
icy H2O by the aforesaid Holly.”
“You get out!” cried the badgered one. “I can save girls as well as
anyone, only I never get the chance.”
“You’re not quick enough,” suggested Dutch. “You should be on the
lookout to get a life-saving medal. But, all joking aside, Tom, was it
at all serious?”
“It sure was,” came the reply. “It looked to be touch and go for a few
minutes.”
On his way to the library that evening, to get a book he needed in
preparing his lessons, Tom met Shambler. The athlete looked at our hero,
half shamefacedly, and asked:
“Are the--the girls all right?”
“Yes,” answered Tom shortly.
“I say, Parsons,” and Shambler’s voice had a note of pleading in it.
“I--I lost my head, I guess. I was a coward, I know it. I--er--are you
going to tell?”
“Of course not!” snapped Tom. “We--we don’t tell--at Randall.”
He hurried on, not stopping to hear what Shambler had to say--if
anything--in the way of thanks.