After getting himself out of the water for the fifth time, Ripley crawled over stronger ice, and went on past the hole in which Dave sat on the raft.

Then Ripley was able to get to his feet, tottering toward the shore, shaking as though with fever and chills.

A cheer went up from those who watched.  The enthusiasm would have been vastly greater had not the crowd had its eyes on Dick Prescott, who must yet be saved if aid could reach him before his numbed limbs could sustain him no longer.

“Get that rope off, Ripley,” bawled Dave Darrin.  “Hurry!  I must throw it to Dick, or he’ll go down!”

“I can’t get it off,” mumbled Fred, tugging vainly, almost aimlessly, as he still moved coveward.

As he was on staunch ice, now, three or four men ran toward him.  One, with a sharp knife, waved the others away and quickly slashed the noose away from Fred’s shoulders.

“Go on, you pup!” grumbled the man with the knife.  “Now, we’ll try to get help to the man!”

Fred was not too far spent to flash angrily at that taunt.

“You’d better be careful whom you speak to like that!” snarled Ripley.  “You’re a low-bred fellow, anyway!”

But the man who had slashed the rope free didn’t even hear.  He had turned toward Darrin, to make sure that Dave could draw the rope toward him fast enough.

“One of you people get Ripley’s skates off for him, and help him ashore,” called Tom Reade.

“Why don’t you?” some one in the crowd answered.

“Because my job,” retorted Reade, “is keeping my eyes on my chum, ready to help if anything comes up that I can do.”

Four or five hurried to Fred’s aid.  He had been walking on his skates, which, at best, is an awkward style of locomotion.  Two men held him up, while two of the H.S. boys quickly took off his skates.  After that Fred, leaning on one of the H.S. boys, made much quicker time to the shore.

Here a man with a sleigh waited.

“Pile him in here,” directed the driver.  “Dr. Gilbert has gone up to the Avery House and is getting things ready.  I’ll have Ripley back in a jiffy.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” sang out a boy in the freshman class.  “But the main thing is to hustle back and be ready to take Dick Prescott.”

“And I’ll pray all through the round trip that you may get Prescott back to shore alive,” fervently replied the driver, as he brought the whip down across the horse’s back.

Dave Darrin, too, was chilled.  That was why, when he had drawn all the rope in and had coiled it, he made a throw that fell short.

“Courage, Dick, old fellow,” he shouted.  “I’ll get it to you, in a jiffy.”

Nervously, quickly, Dave hauled in the rope.  He coiled rapidly, yet with care.

“Now, may Heaven give me the strength to throw this coil far enough to do the trick!” prayed Dave Darrin, as he made the second cast.