"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.

* * *

Chapter 8 TOM KEEPS SILENT

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