d.i.c.k and Dave were rushed into a room. With so many hands to help, they were soon stripped. Then rough Turkish towels were plied upon them until even their skins began to show the red of blood and life.
"Now, wrap blankets about them, and bring them into a warm room,"
ordered the doctor.
As they entered the other room they espied Fred Ripley, already seated in an arm-chair by the stove, a bowl of something hot in one hand.
The driver of the sleigh now came in.
"You lads will want something warm and dry to put on," he declared.
"Give me your orders. The distance isn"t far. I"ll drive to your homes and get the clothes and things that you want."
"No, thank you," returned Ripley, stiffly. "I"ve already had a telephone message sent, and my father"s auto will bring out what I need."
"But you youngsters will want something?" asked the driver, turning to the plucky freshmen.
d.i.c.k and Dave stated their requests, Prescott adding:
"But please be sure to make our parents understand that we"re safe. We don"t want them seared to death."
Fred Ripley took a long swallow of the steaming stuff in his bowl. As he did so he took a furtive glance in the direction of the freshmen.
Was he going to attempt to thank them for having risked their own lives to help him back to safety?
CHAPTER XX
OUT FOR THAT TOBOGGAN!
Ben Badger came to the sh.o.r.e edge of the ice, megaphone in hand announcing in stentorian tones:
"Our friends are safe---even jolly. The sports will now go on!"
First on the card was a free-for-all dash of a half mile, standing start. The trophy was a regulation target revolver.
Badger, of the first cla.s.s, and Purcell, of the soph.o.m.ore, held the lead and all but tied each other at the outset. Third in order came Stearns, the agile little right end of the eleven.
When half the distance had been traveled it was noticed that Stearns was creeping up on the leaders.
"Look out, Ben, or the little fellow will get you!" roared friends.
Stearns continued to gain, slowly. Purcell dropped back to third place. None of the other eight in the race seemed likely to do anything effective.
"A little more steam, Ben!"
"Stearns, you can get it!"
In the last eighth of the distance Stearns made good. Summoning all his football wind and speed the little right end closed and shot ahead. Not once in the remainder of the course did Ben Badger quite catch up with his smaller opponent. Stearns won by some fifteen yards.
The racers came slowly back, breathing harder than usual. As soon as jovial Ben felt equal to the task of further announcing, he picked up the megaphone, shouting:
"As I didn"t win, all the further events are postponed!"
There was stupefied silence for a few moments. Grown people and the students looked from one to another. Then a guffaw started that swelled to a chorus of laughter.
"The next event on the card," called Ben, satisfied with the effect of his joke, "is the free-for-all fancy skating event. The contestants will come before the judges one at a time. Each entrant is limited to two minutes, actual time."
There should have been some girls entered in this event, but there were none. Six H.S. boys from the different cla.s.ses came forward.
"Fred Ripley loses his chance," muttered some one.
"He _had_ his chance. A fellow who prefers to skate into the freeze is counted out," replied Thomp.
Just as the contestants were moving out Greg Holmes came hurrying down to the ice.
"Am I too late?" he called.
"Not if you think you"ve got anything good," replied Badger.
Greg promptly proceeded to put on his skates, covertly watching the performance of the first fellow to show off. It was good work that Greg watched, but he thought he could beat it.
"You"ll have to go last on the list," nodded Ben, as Greg came skating up.
Greg merely nodded, though inwardly he grinned. "That just suits me," he told himself. "The fellow who skates last will be freshest in the minds of the judges."
When it came Greg"s turn he avoided most of the fancy figures that the other fellows had shown off amid much applause. Still, Greg showed a bewildering a.s.sortment of "eights," "double-eights"
and some magnificent work along the "turn promenade" order that Ripley had been doing before the accident.
Then Greg came in, promenading backward on his skates.
"I"m going to fall," he called to the judges, "but it will be intentional."
"Fall it is, then," nodded Sam Edgeworth, one of the judges.
Greg was moving jauntily along, still doing the backward promenade.
Suddenly one of his skates appeared to catch against the other.
Down went Greg, backwards. Despite his announcement the moment before, a sympathetic murmur went up from many of the onlookers.
But Greg, sitting down suddenly as he did, pivoted around like a streak. Throwing his hands back of his head, he sprang to his feet. At the first he was doing the forward promenade. The whole manoeuvre, including the fall, had occupied barely four seconds.
Now, wheeling into the back promenade Greg glided before the judges.
"Time," called the holder of the watch.
"I"m willing," nodded Greg. "And I"m willing any contestant who wants should try my stunt before the verdict is given."
The conference between the judges did not last long and Greg got the decision.