e boot, with the sea then
nearing its climax, and alighted prostrate on the smooth slant of the
big pan. He grasped for handhold: there was none; and, had not the
surface of the pan been approaching a horizontal on the crest of the
sea, he would have shot over the edge. Nothing else saved him.

Tommy Lark rose and established his balance with widespread feet and
waving arms.

"'Tis not too bad," he called.

"What's beyond?"

"No trouble beyond."

There was more ice beyond. It was small. Tommy Lark danced across to
the other side of the lane, however, without great difficulty. He
could not have paused on the way. The ice, thick though it was, was
too light.

"Safe over!" he shouted.

"I'm comin'."

"Mind the leap for the big pan. 'Tis a ticklish landin'. That's all
you've t' fear."

* * * * *

Sandy Rowl was as agile as Tommy Lark. He was as competent--he was as
practiced. Following the same course as Tommy Lark, he encountered the
same difficulties and met them in the same way; and thus he proceeded
from the first sinking cake through the short leap to the second more
substantial one, whence he leaped with confidence to the third, landed
on the rugged fourth, his feet ill placed for the next leap, and
sprang awkwardly for the small fifth cake, meaning to touch it lightly
on his course to the big pan.

But he had started an instant too soon. When, therefore, he came to
the last leap, with the crest of the wave above him and the trough
below, the pan was midway of the side of the sea, its inclination at
the widest. He slipped--fell; and he rolled off into the water and
sank. When he came to the surface, the ice was on the crest of the
sea, beginning its descent. He grasped the edge of it and tried to
draw himself aboard. In this he failed. The pan was too thick--too
high in the water; and the weight of his boots and clothes was too
great to overcome. In the trough of the sea, where his opportunity was
best, he almost succeeded. He established one knee on the pan and
strove desperately and with all his strength to lift himself over the
edge. But the pan began to climb before he succeeded, leaving him
helpless on the lower edge of the incline; and the best he could do to
save himself was to cling to it with bare, striving fingers, waiting
for his opportunity to renew itself.

To Tommy Lark it was plain that Sandy Rowl could not lift himself out
of the water.

"Hang fast'" h