Down went Dick.  To those looking on, it was heroic—–­sublime?  Yet it looked as though the rescuer must be dooming himself.

“One Prescott is worth a dozen Ripleys” murmured one man who, unable to swim, was obliged to stand looking uselessly on.

There were still many who were shouting confusing advice as to what others ought to do.  A few were even running about trying to do something.

Dave Darrin was actually “on the job.”

He had pressed Dick’s other partners into service and as many of the High School boys as possible.  They got off their skates in a rush.

“Tom,” shouted Dave, “you and Greg get some of the fellows and rush down as many ties as you can from that pile by the railroad tracks.  Dalzell, you and Harry get down at the edge of send him your way.  Make a raft by laying four ties side by side, and lash the ends.  Do it as quick as a flash.  I’ll be there by that time.”

Tom and Greg quickly had a dozen men running for railroad ties, a pile of which stood less than an eighth of a mile away.

By the time that the man with ropes arrived, and two more behind him, bringing more, there were a dozen railroad ties on the ice by the outer edge of the cove.  Harry Hazelton and Dan snatched short lengths of rope and knotted them around either end of the raft.

“Some of you men make another raft, just like that one!” shouted Dave, who, at the time, was busily engaged in making a noose at one end of a long coil of half-inch rope.

“Here, you two men get hold of the other end of this,” ordered Dave, running up with the coil of rope.

Then, hardly waiting to make sure that they had the rope, Dave turned to Harry and Dan, calling to them to help him push the raft out beyond the cove.  A dozen men and boys tried to help, all at once, but Dave and Harry saw to it that no speed was lost by blundering.

The raft was not difficult to push out over the ice.

“Now, let me have it alone,” shouted Dave.  “The ice may break at any point beyond.”

So Dave tugged and pushed, guiding the small raft before him.

Cra-ack!  Dave and the raft went through the ice, but Darrin quickly climbed up astride of the ties.

Out beyond, Dick was holding up Fred Ripley, whom he had found and brought to the surface.  Fred’s eyes were nearly closed.  After his second drop below, the Ripley lad was nearly spent.

Glancing back, Dave saw that another raft was being pushed out by the two men who held the rope that was noosed under his shoulders.

“Now, halt where you are!” Dave Darrin shouted back.  “Toss me a long rope that I can throw out to Prescott!”

The rope came swirling.  Dave caught it easily enough.  Then, still sitting on the raft, his legs, of course, in the water, Darrin recoiled the rope.

“Can you spare a hand to catch, Dick?” shouted Dave.