Was he going to attempt to thank them for having risked their own lives to help him back to safety?

CHAPTER XX

OUT FOR THAT TOBOGGAN!

Ben Badger came to the shore edge of the ice, megaphone in hand announcing in stentorian tones: 

“Our friends are safe—–­even jolly.  The sports will now go on!”

First on the card was a free-for-all dash of a half mile, standing start.  The trophy was a regulation target revolver.

Badger, of the first class, and Purcell, of the sophomore, held the lead and all but tied each other at the outset.  Third in order came Stearns, the agile little right end of the eleven.  When half the distance had been traveled it was noticed that Stearns was creeping up on the leaders.

“Look out, Ben, or the little fellow will get you!” roared friends.

Stearns continued to gain, slowly.  Purcell dropped back to third place.  None of the other eight in the race seemed likely to do anything effective.

“A little more steam, Ben!”

“Stearns, you can get it!”

In the last eighth of the distance Stearns made good.  Summoning all his football wind and speed the little right end closed and shot ahead.  Not once in the remainder of the course did Ben Badger quite catch up with his smaller opponent.  Stearns won by some fifteen yards.

The racers came slowly back, breathing harder than usual.  As soon as jovial Ben felt equal to the task of further announcing, he picked up the megaphone, shouting: 

“As I didn’t win, all the further events are postponed!”

There was stupefied silence for a few moments.  Grown people and the students looked from one to another.  Then a guffaw started that swelled to a chorus of laughter.

“The next event on the card,” called Ben, satisfied with the effect of his joke, “is the free-for-all fancy skating event.  The contestants will come before the judges one at a time.  Each entrant is limited to two minutes, actual time.”

There should have been some girls entered in this event, but there were none.  Six H.S. boys from the different classes came forward.

“Fred Ripley loses his chance,” muttered some one.

“He had his chance.  A fellow who prefers to skate into the freeze is counted out,” replied Thomp.

Just as the contestants were moving out Greg Holmes came hurrying down to the ice.

“Am I too late?” he called.

“Not if you think you’ve got anything good,” replied Badger.

Greg promptly proceeded to put on his skates, covertly watching the performance of the first fellow to show off.  It was good work that Greg watched, but he thought he could beat it.

“You’ll have to go last on the list,” nodded Ben, as Greg came skating up.

Greg merely nodded, though inwardly he grinned.  “That just suits me,” he told himself.  “The fellow who skates last will be freshest in the minds of the judges.”