e
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.

[Illustration: He was fighting to prevent himself from being drawn
beneath the jagged, crumbling edge of the hole. Page 244.]

As Stephen looked about him in the vague, groping uncertainty of
returning consciousness his glance fell upon his father who stood beside
his pillow, shivering nervously. He put out his hand and touched the
dripping coat sleeve.

"What--" began he weakly.

Then with a rush it all came back to him and everything was clear. He
ha