VIA RESCUE
And a bully time they had that next forenoon. To be sure, a few day students appeared at the slide, but the four juniors had things pretty much to themselves for all of that. They had their pick of the school toboggans and the added satisfaction of knowing that the hated enemy was envying them. For Lanny’s prophecy had proved true, and the offending upper grade fellows had been sentenced to house bounds for the entire morning.
Nan, in a fetching white blanket coat with red border and a white and red toque, joined them at their invitation, and, in order to show no partiality, alternately went down with Bert and Kid and Lanny and Small. Small was in high feather this morning, and talked a good deal about how he had scared the upper grade fellows into fits by hurling himself down the slide after them. Small finally actually got to believe that he had really performed that sensational feat on purpose.
It was a cloudy Saturday, but crisp and cold, and the slide was very fast. Starting at the platform, there came a breath-taking rush down the icy boards, then a little bump as the toboggan took the ground, then a slackening of speed for a moment over the level ground, then a long dip down the meadow hill, a little rise, and another and steeper descent and finally a gradual lessening of speed in the fields above the river, the whole trip over almost before one could really settle down to appreciation of it. Then came the long tramp back, cheeks crimson and hearts merry. There was only one spill all that morning, and that came when Lanny, yielding at last to the imploring of Small, allowed that youth to occupy the back of the toboggan. They had Nan with them that trip, and just after they had reached the level Small managed in some way to shift his position so that the toboggan plunged over the bank and sent them all sprawling in the soft snow. Nan declared, as she shook the snow off, that upsetting was lots of fun, and thereafter went down each time with the hope that the toboggan would overturn!
But it never did again, and dinner time came all too soon. Not, however, that they were lacking in appetite. Bert declared that he could eat wirenails, while Kid, not to be outdone in picturesqueness of language, maintained that a “raw dog would suit him finely!” Their appetites contrasted strongly with those of the upper grade fellows who had been mooning around indoors all the morning, and Cupples, watching Lanny eat, sighed enviously.
At two o’clock the big sleigh came to the door to take those who wished to ride down to the river where the annual ice carnival was to be held. A few of the older boys went on snowshoes, and Kid started off alone with his sled, but the others piled into the sleigh, which had a seat running lengthwise at each side. Everyone went, even the Doctor and Mrs. Merton; and Nan, of course. The river was frozen a good five inches and save where, here and there near shore, a snow-field hid the surface, was in the best of shape for the races. A fire was started on the bank and the Doctor and Mrs. Merton made themselves comfortable with robes from the sleigh. Everyone else, including Mr. Crane and Mr. Folsom, who had the affair in charge, donned skates and took to the surface. Most of the day students were on hand, and by half past two practically all of Mt. Pleasant Academy was there, one of the few absentees being Kid. But Kid arrived in time to see the finish of the two-hundred-yarddash, panting and puffing and pulling his beloved sled behind him.
Spooner, one of the day boys, a short, round-faced chap who looked like anything but a fast skater, won the first event. Spooner, in spite of his appearance, was a wonder on skates, and by reason of that ability had won the captaincy of the Day Hockey team. Other races followed; a quarter-mile event for seniors and upper middlers, a race of the same distance for lower middlers and juniors, a half-mile handicap and finally a rescue race of a quarter of a mile. Ben Holden distanced the entire field of five in the senior quarter-mile event, Cupples captured the next, with Lanny a close second, and the half-mile handicap, which started with sixteen entries, went to a day student, while Sam Perkins fought every foot of the distance and managed to finish only some six yards behind. There were prizes for first and second places, in each case a small pewter mug with the date and event engraved on it and a place for the winner’s name. Those mugs were highly prized and some of the seniors, during their three years at Mt. Pleasant, had managed to make a very creditable collection of them. Mr. Crane was kept pretty busy hustling the events off, while Mr. Folsom,looking as serious as ever, timed each event. As not even a school record was broken that day the time need not interest us.
Bert had entered in the handicap, but had finished a poor sixth, much to his chagrin since, although he was no hockey player, he rather prided himself on his skating. But the distance was too short for Bert to show up at his best, and when, after the rescue race was over, the two-mile handicap was announced Bert gave his name to Mr. Crane.
Before this, however, the rescue race had occasioned not a little excitement and a great deal of mirth. A quarter of a mile up the river from the starting place four small juniors, Kid, Small and two day students waited each with his ankles bound together with a skate strap. They wore no skates. At the word from Mr. Crane, Pierce, Waters, Lovell and a day student named Tucker dashed off up the ice. The first to arrive at the end of the course was at liberty to pick his boy, and, as Kid was several pounds lighter than any of the other three, the contestants all wanted Kid. Waters got him, beating the others by a few yards. Then the task was to return to the starting place with the rescued boy. They could carry him, pull him or push him; theonly thing was to get him back. But the mode generally adopted was to get the rescued boy in front, seize him by the elbows and push him, the burden slanting his body back and sliding along on his heels. Of course, the rescued boy was required to aid to the extent of keeping his body stiff and his feet straight ahead. But it wasn’t so easy. Now and then one or other would double up, or his feet would swing aside, or his rescuer would lose his hold. In either case the result was usually a spill, with the rescuer and rescued ludicrously mixed up on the ice. Kid, in spite of his light weight, proved a troublesome burden, for he seemed unable to keep his feet straight for the goal and was forever swinging to one side or the other, occasioning Waters much trouble, two upsets and a loss of temper. Waters insisted afterwards that Kid did it on purpose. As for the justice of that charge I decline to give an opinion. Kid was Kid, and a law unto himself!
In the end Steve Lovell won with Small, who behaved beautifully all the way, and Pierce was second, Waters finishing a very bad fourth. During that race the upsets were not confined to the competitors, for most of the spectators skated along the edge of the course, applauding and encouraging and laughing, and more than one, unable to laughand skate too, abandoned skating and decided to view the finish from a recumbent position.
There were only three entries for the final event, the two-mile handicap, Ben Holden, Stanley Pierce and Bert. Holden was placed at scratch, Pierce was given eighty yards and Bert two hundred, more, as subsequent events proved, than his ability entitled him to. The course was up the river for a mile to the upper end of Candle Island, a low sand-bar near the shore, around the island and back to the starting line. This was approximately a mile and the distance was to be skated twice.
Lanny and Nan skated up the river with Bert and Mr. Crane to Bert’s starting mark. Then Mr. Crane returned to post Pierce and give the word.
“Oh, I do hope you’ll win, Bert!” said Nan.
“So do I,” agreed Lanny, “if only to beat Ben. You’d better let him make the pace for you as soon as he catches up with you.”
“Don’t let him catch up,” said Nan. “Skate just as hard and fast as ever you can, Bert! And please be careful at the island. You know Mr. Crane said you must keep above the snag because the ice is weak there.”
“He’s a regular old woman about thin ice,” said Lanny.
“But it’s so, Lanny, and I know it. The ice isalways weak at the end of Candle Island. The—the current or something does it. So you must keep beyond the snag, Bert.”
“What sort of a thing is this snag?” asked Bert, taking a tighter hitch in his belt and keeping his eye down river for the signal.
“Why, it’s an old dead tree that sticks up through the ice about—about twenty yards beyond the further end of the island,” explained Nan. “And you must—”
“Get set,” interrupted Lanny. “He’s going to start you.”
Then down the river Mr. Crane dropped the hand holding his cap and Bert’s skates bit into the ice and he was off. A two mile race, whether on foot or on skates, is a thing of endurance and soon Bert slowed down to an even, swinging pace that took him along quite fast enough. Ben started out with the idea of catching Pierce and he did it in the first quarter of a mile, while back at the starting line the watchers cheered lustily. Ben wasn’t bothering about Bert. He would let Pierce make the pace as long as he would and then pass him. He believed that a mile would see the junior out of the race. Bert reached the farther end of Candle Island quite alone, swung around the snagwhich poked itself through the ice like a gaunt brown arm, and swung homeward. As he passed the middle of the sand-bar he saw Pierce and Holden, only three yards apart, on the other side. Pierce was looking flurried already, Bert thought. So far Bert had maintained his lead, and he meant to do his very best to keep it. But on the return journey Ben awoke to the fact that Pierce was slowing up and that the third competitor had a very dangerous lead. So he left Pierce behind soon after the lower end of the island was passed and increased his speed. By the time the starting place was reached, where a barrel set on end did duty as a turning mark, Bert’s lead had been cut down to a scant hundred yards and Ben was still gaining. The spectators cheered and waved as the two boys made the turn and began the second lap, and Bert heard Lanny’s voice high above all others:
“All for one and one for all!” shouted Lanny. Nan, a blur of red and white, waved wildly. Half way to the island again Bert heard Ben’s skates ringing on the ice close behind. For nearly a quarter of a mile the two boys skated twenty yards apart, although from the start it was difficult to guess the distance that divided them. Then Ben spurted, as the lower end of the island was reached,and Bert let him by without a challenge. Meanwhile Pierce was out of it and was sitting by the fire nursing a painful attack of cramps.
Around the head of the island the two skaters went, Bert right on Ben’s heels. Ben had obeyed Mr. Crane’s injunction before, but now, hoping perhaps to steal a few yards on Bert, he swung around close to the end of the sand-bar, well inside the snag. After a moment of hesitation, which lost him several yards of distance, Bert followed.
“If that ice will hold him it will hold me,” thought Bert.
Near shore the ice was worn by the action of the current as it swept against the bar and open water showed in places. But Ben’s course seemed to bear him safely away from the weak places, although still some distance inside the dead tree. Bert followed in his tracks some six yards behind. Then, suddenly, there was a cracking sound, an exclamation from Ben and that youth wheeled half around and went through the ice. Bert strove to stop, wheeling to the right, felt the ice giving beneath him and threw himself face down and went sliding toward the snag and safety. Then he was on his knees, rather dizzy and frightened, peeringanxiously back for Ben. Ben, clinging to the edge of the ice, was keeping himself afloat.
“Got anything you can throw me?” he asked Bert coolly. “I can keep afloat here for a week but the ice won’t hold, I guess.”
Bert pulled off his sweater, unstrapped his belt with shaking fingers and knotted the latter to a sleeve of the sweater. Then he wriggled forward at full length.
“Be careful,” cautioned Ben, his teeth chattering.
“I will,” answered Bert. “I’m lighter than you, Ben. I think I can get pretty nearly out there.”
And he finally did, and then strove to throw the sweater where Ben could reach it. But the thing seemed possessed of the imp of perversity. Time and again Bert’s attempts put the sweater just outside Ben’s reach, and once the latter, struggling to get hold of it, lost his clutch on the edge of the ice and almost sank again. But finally his fingers caught the edge of the woolen garment. Then, getting a firm grip of it, he began to break the weak ice with his fist, while Bert, wriggling away, took up the slack by inches. At last hard ice was reached and then, taking the sweater between histeeth, Ben attempted to lift his body out of the water. It was hard work, and time and again when success was almost attained he went back. But finally, kicking and thrashing and struggling, with Bert pulling as hard as the slippery surface of the ice would allow, Ben got out, dripping and chilled. He wriggled over to where Bert lay, not daring yet to trust himself on his feet and scarcely in condition to stand up, for that matter, and sat panting and shaking.
“B-b-better put your sweater on again,” he chattered.
“Not me,” said Bert. “You put it on, and hurry up with it. If you don’t you’ll have a chill.”
“I g-g-guess I’ve got one now,” answered Ben. “That w-w-wat-er was f-f-fierce!”
“Can’t you stand up?” asked Bert.
“Yes.” But it wasn’t easy and Ben had to cling to Bert in doing so. Then Bert got his sweater over Ben’s, which was wringing wet, Ben protesting all the while and weakly striving to resist.
“I d-d-don’t need it,” he chattered. “You’ll c-c-catch cold, Bryant.”
“I won’t, but you will,” replied Bert, rescuing his belt and putting it on again. “Now come on. Can you skate?”
“No, I—I’d rather sit down a minute, I g-g-guess.”
“You can’t! You mustn’t! Come on, Ben, and get warm. Skate as hard as you can. We’ll race back.”
Ben made a feeble effort, swayed, clung to Bert and shook his head.
“All right, then,” said Bert. “We’ll make this a rescue race and I’ll slide you back.” He laughed and Ben tried to smile.
“N-n-no, wait a m-m-minute,” said Ben. “I’ll b-b-be all right. It’s m-m-my legs, Bryant; they’re like ice.”
“Stamp around, Ben! Stretch them. That’s it. Better? Now see if you can’t skate.”
Ben tried and succeeded in getting started. Very slowly they made the turn around the end of the island and started back. But every movement helped and soon Ben’s blood was stirring again in his chilled body and the color began to creep back into his cheeks.
“That was a fool thing to do,” he said. “But I thought the ice was thick enough to hold anyone. Gee, if you hadn’t been there I’d—I’d been frozen by this time! I could keep afloat all right, but the water was awful!”
“Skate faster,” said Bert, “and don’t talk.”
By the time the starting line was in sight Ben was making good time and to the spectators it looked as though they were to see a wonderfully close finish, for the two boys were side by side. There had been some uneasiness because of the delay and the watchers breathed sighs of relief when the two skaters came into sight again. Caps waved and voices urged them on.
“Come on, Ben! Hit it up! You aren’t half skating!”
“Beat him, Bert! Beat him! Skate! Skate!”
Kid danced about and turned circles on his skates, all the time yelling shrilly, and Nan, her pink cheeks rosier than ever from excitement, clapped her hands and “rooted” for Bert. Down to the line came the two skaters, skating fast but evidently quite tuckered out and showing a lot of effort. The spectators skated to meet them, and then it was that Ben’s wet clothes were noted and questions fell fast. Bert had no thought of the race. He wanted to see Ben wrapped up warmly and started on his way back to school. And he wanted to get there himself, for he felt decidedly weak and sick, and every few moments a shiver went over him. And so he never noticed when Benslowed down almost at the line and never noticed that he himself had skated across it and had won the race until Lanny smote him on the back, almost sending him on his face, and shouted:
“You won, Bert! He didn’t cross! He didn’t finish!”
But Bert paid no heed. He shouldered his way to Mr. Crane who was stretching out his hand in congratulation.
“Ben went through the ice, sir,” he said, “and he ought to be taken home right away. And I guess—I guess you’d better take me, too.”
Whereupon Bert sank against Mr. Crane and fainted dead away.