ernoon, of course."
They did. More than a hundred of the student body, most of them
boys, were on the ice that afternoon.
Some went scurrying by for all they were worth. These were training
for the races.
Others gathered in the less traveled parts of the cove, which
was a large one, and practiced the "fancy" feats. Tom Reade and
Dan Dalzell put themselves in this class. Dick and his other
partners went in for speed.
Friday afternoon there was an even larger attendance.
Gaylor's Cove was about half a mile long, with an average width
of a quarter of a mile. At the middle the cove was open for a
long way upon the river.
At some points on the river proper the ice was strong enough to
bear. Near Gaylor's Cove, however, the river current was so swift
that the river ice at this point looked thin and treacherous.
No one ventured out on the ice just beyond the cove.
Friday night many a High School boy and girl studied the sky.
There was no sign of storm, nor did the conditions seem to threaten
a thaw. Saturday morning was cold and clear. The temperature,
at noon, was just above freezing point, though not enough so to
bring about a "thaw" in the ice.
By one o'clock Saturday afternoon Gaylor's Cove was a scene of
great activity. Two thirds of the High School students were there,
most of them on skates. There were three or four hundred other
youngsters, and more than a hundred grown-ups.
"All we need is the band," laughed Dick Prescott, as he skated
slowly along with Laura Bentley.
"The click-clack of the skates is enough for me," Laura replied.
"You are not down in any of the girls' contests, are you?" he
asked.
"No; does that disappoint you, Dick?"
"N-no," he said, slowly. "Still, it's fine to see every event
all but crowded."
"In how many events are you entered?" asked the girl.
"Only one, the freshman's mile. That will be swift work, and
there are two turns, the way the course is to be laid out."
"Why didn't you enter more of the freshman events?" Laura asked.
"Well, it will take a lot of good wind to keep going at a swift
pace for a mile. I want to save all my strength and wind for
that one event."
"What is the prize in the freshman's mile?" asked Laura, fumbling
in her muff for the card of the day's events.
"You noticed that handsome Canadian toboggan, didn't you?"
"The one with the side hand-rails?" Laura asked, looking up brightly
into his face. "Yes; that ought
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