"They are making a great deal of fuss about nothing," said David, the day after the fire. "I'm sure it wasn't half as hard as it would have been to climb a rope that distance. The vines gave me a great grip."

David and Frank had just come across the yard from luncheon, and everywhere they were greeted with friendly nods from the members of all classes.

"That lame fellow is the one who saved Patterson last night," spoken in low tones, was frequently heard as the two went along. In the class-room, the boys and the teachers themselves applauded David's action until he felt like running away and hiding.

"I did nothing much anyway," he would say, blushing.

That morning old Doctor Hobart sent for David, and David was embarrassed by his praise.

"You did a fine thing, young man, a noble thing. We will not forget it. You do not look strong enough to perform the feat. I myself saw you when you were half way up the wall. I'm not sure I should have allowed you to go up had I seen you when you began your attempt. Where did you get that strength, for it must have taken a great deal?" and the old gentleman bent forward in his chair and scrutinized kindly the slender boy.

"I wanted to be able to do something for the school besides my lessons and the only thing I could do was something for my hands and arms. I've been working mornings at the gymnasium, rope climbing and taking exercise on the parallel bars."

"O, I see," said the Doctor. "Well, the good Lord just brought you here. It is most fortunate that you had developed yourself as you did, for I doubt if anyone else could have had the strength, to say nothing of the courage, to do it."

"But he was my friend, and I had to do it when the ladder broke."

"Well, it was a brave thing and we will remember it. I will take pleasure in giving the facts of your action to your father, Colonel Powers."

The only one who did not credit David with anything extraordinary was Dixon. He made light of the whole thing.

"No wonder he could climb, he has no legs to speak of. Patterson wouldn't have jumped or fallen anyway." This argument was meant to end it, but although he was with his cronies, he had not much support in this view.

The fire and rescue were the talk of the school for several days, but the ice was good and the river sports took the attention of the active-minded boys, much to David's rejoicing. Afternoons were devoted to hockey, racing, fancy skating and just plain skating.

Warwick had sent down her best seven with Channing at its head, and challenged Dixon's team to a game. A temporary rink of boards was hastily put up with the assistance of the school carpenter. Posts were let through the ice and firmly driven into the mud at intervals of every eight feet, and on these were nailed boards to the height of nearly three feet. The boards made a firm barrier for the puck. Dixon and his team-mates had practiced every minute, but when the test with Warwick came the latter wily individuals carried away the honors.

It was a sharp game, but the team work which had been shown in the football game the previous month was again apparent in the game on the ice, and it bore down all obstacles. And Dixon's team was not really as strong in opposing Warwick as in football. They were not together. Twice, by sheer force and rough tactics, they got the puck past the Warwick goal-tender, but this was all. Warwick scored seven times by pretty passing and elusive dodging. As the game began to go against Queen's the latter tried rougher and rougher tactics, but they only opened their defence more and more, and Warwick piled up the tallies.

"Is that the best hockey team you can get in Queen's?" asked a Warwick boy who was watching the game. "We have at least three teams that could take that aggregation into camp."

The Wee One, who was standing with Frank, Jimmy and a group of Freshmen just at that point, answered him: "No, we have at least half a dozen that could trim it."

"Well, why on earth don't you have them play? Those fellows, with the exception of your left forward, and Dixon there, can hardly stand on their skates, let alone play the game of hockey."

"You see the captain has lots of friends, and he plays whoever he wants to on his team. The good players don't happen to be friends of his, so they don't play. See the point?"

The Wee One had recovered from his scare at the fire, and while he had been very friendly with Frank and David from the very first, he was with them most of the time now. He hadn't said much to David, but his eyes spoke volumes of regard and affection for his rescuer.

"Well," said the Warwick boy, "it's no fun to win a game like that. Since hockey is a closed sport to the best players down here, I'm going to try to get Channing to challenge Queen's to a series of races before this good ice gets away from us or a big snow storm comes on. Dixon couldn't keep the good skaters out of such races, could he?"

"No," said the Wee One, "not if the challenge came to all the school. He probably wouldn't go into it at all since he couldn't run it."

"Good—then I'll get after Channing. The way to do it would be to have tryouts in both schools and let the fastest skaters meet."

The boys agreed that it would be a great plan, and promised their aid.

"You'll enter, won't you, Jimmy, and you, Frank?" said Patterson.

"Sure," was the answer.

"Get Channing to send a challenge to the whole school," continued Patterson. "Have him send it to Mr. Parks, who is a friend of the school athletics and always willing to help."

The hockey game had ended by this time, and the triumphant Warwickites went back up the river shouting a song of victory which did not strike pleasantly on the ears of the defeated Queen's team. It had been customary for the teams to cheer each other, but Dixon and his players had climbed out of the rink without a word, taken off their skates and gone sullenly to the gymnasium.

True to his word, the Warwick boy, who had proposed the ice carnival on the afternoon of the hockey game, took the matter to Channing, and that young man was eager for it.

"We've beaten Queen's in baseball this year, football and hockey, and we'd beat them if they had basket-ball, and we'll clean them up on the ice races. We can beat them at anything from tiddle-de-winks up to throwing the javelin. They have a society down there which runs athletics, and until they get over that disease the best fellows in the school are not allowed to play. That hockey game this afternoon was a joke."

Channing got to work at once and spread the proposed plan about Warwick. It was eagerly taken up, and the result was the following challenge in the morning's mail:

"To Queen's School:

"Warwick School challenges you to a series of ice races on the Wampaug river on Saturday of this week. We propose a half-mile race, a hundred-yard race, and a mile race,—all to be skated straightaway, without turns—each school to hold its trials and present only its best skaters in these events. The racing to be open to everyone in each school, and the entrants are to be chosen only on merit.

"(Signed) Robert Channing,

"For Warwick School."

Mr. Parks, thoroughly in sympathy with anything which was in the nature of a good, clean contest, particularly when it was on such a broad basis, was heartily in favor of the movement for a competition, and posted the letter conspicuously on the bulletin board in the gymnasium vestibule.

The letter attracted much attention, and every boy in Queen's who could skate, or thought he could, entered his name on a long sheet of paper which Mr. Parks put there for that purpose. Of course, Frank, Jimmy and Lewis were entered. Their names were among the first to go down in their class.

On the shining ice just below Queen's a measured course was laid off by Mr. Parks, and the boys who intended to skate did their practising there. The course for the contest was to be laid equi-distant from each school so that there would be no favor to either, and where the ice was not so much cut up as it was near the schools.

That evening Jimmy and Lewis dropped into Frank's room to talk it over. They had all been out on the ice trying the various distances. Lewis thought his distance was the hundred yards.

"All you have to do in that," he said, "is to take one big breath and let 'er go. I think I made the best time over that distance."

"You did like fun," said Jimmy. "You were half way down the course when I started and I passed you before we got to the finish. If Channing had suggested a ten-yard dash, I'd have bet on you, Lewis. As it is, I don't think you'll do better than tenth in the hundred."

"I wish I had a decent pair of skates," said Frank. "These old ones of mine are too small for me, and when I get to going fast they don't run well. I guess it's because they haven't enough bearing surface on the ice."

"What are you going to enter, Frank?" asked David.

"Seems to me," said Frank, "that the half mile is my best distance. I can't get going in the hundred. Jimmy goes the hundred like a breeze. And the whole mile is too much for me. If I had a longer pair of skates I could do better, but there's no time to get any so I'll have to do with these."

"Wheeler has entered in the half mile, I see," said Jimmy, "and he's a terror. Not particularly graceful, but he's as strong as a bull. Have you noticed that Dixon hasn't entered any of the races?"

"I was looking for his name, but it isn't on the list. Just the same, he was out practising this afternoon."

"I didn't see him," said Frank. "What was he working at?"

"The half mile," said Lewis. "He didn't come out till after you left the ice, and I think he's down there now. I met him and some of his cronies when I was coming over here, and they had their skates. I think he's after your scalp. And he's mighty fast on his skates, too."

"Well, I wouldn't be afraid of him the least little bit if I had skates that fitted me. Maybe I can borrow a pair, but it's not likely, as every one who can stand on skates will be out on the day of the races. I'll do the best I can with what I've got. But maybe he won't enter since he can't run it to suit himself. Mr. Parks, you know, has taken charge of the whole thing, and he, with a Warwick School teacher, is going to be judge at the finish line."

"That sounds good to me," said Jimmy; "there will be no monkey business about it now. It will be a fair race and no favors to anyone, and the fastest wins. I sent my skates to the grinder to-day, and they are as sharp as a razor—too sharp for the best skating. I'll have to take the edge off a little with emery cloth. When they're too sharp they grab the ice too hard, and don't slip easily."

On Thursday came the trial for Queen's School. Mr. Parks was in charge, and saw to it that everything was fair and square. Ten boys lined up for the hundred yards. At half the distance four went out in front. Jimmy was second and going well. Hillard, of the eleven, led by a yard or two, but coming to the very end Jimmy put on a great burst of speed and overhauled him. The two crossed the mark together, breast and breast. A fellow named Robbins was third. The other seven were strung along over a distance of ten or fifteen yards. Lewis was last. He crossed, grumbling because his "old skate" was loose.

"If it hadn't been for that I'd been second at least," he told Jimmy, as they skated back to the starting line. Lewis always had excuses, and most of the time he believed them himself.

Next came the half mile race, which brought out seven fellows, among them Frank. Just as the skaters were getting set for the start, Chip Dixon glided over to Mr. Parks. "I've entered," he said, "and want to start."

"When did you enter?" said Mr. Parks. "I didn't notice your name."

"I put my name down this afternoon; didn't think I could skate till just now because I had a bad knee where a puck hit me."

Mr. Parks looked undecided. He did not like Dixon, and was convinced that he had held off till the last moment deliberately so as to spring himself as something of a surprise, and maybe gain some advantage in it. So he turned to the row of skaters, who were standing on the mark and put the question to them:

"Are you willing he should enter the race, boys?"

Chip's unpopularity showed itself in the hesitation of the fellows in speaking up. They shuffled from one foot to the other. Finally Frank spoke up:

"I have no objection. I'd like to have him in."

It was a challenge to Chip, and Chip knew it, for he shot a quick glance at Frank and his black eyes snapped. The others now agreed, following Frank's lead, and Mr. Parks ordered Dixon into line. He jumped into place and at a signal they were off. It was something of a rush at first as the fellows were a little too close together.

Whether it was accident or not, Dixon jostled the fellow next to him, who, in turn, got in Frank's way and almost threw him. Hoppin went down in a heap and Frank had to skate outside of him to avoid a tumble. When he was clear of Hoppin he was the tail of the bunch. But he settled down to work determinedly, and at half the distance had overhauled three of the stragglers. Dixon, Wheeler, and a lad named Tompkins were still leading, with the former well ahead of the others. Slowly Frank crept up, still reserving a little for the sprint at the end. He passed Tompkins, and was even with Wheeler a hundred yards from the finish. Then he began to put his best speed into it. He passed Wheeler, but, despite everything, he could not quite reach Chip, who shot across the finish line six feet ahead of him. As they snubbed themselves with the heels of their skates, Frank and Chip came close together and Frank caught Chip's triumphant glance which had a sneer in it as well.

"Never mind, old fellow, you get in the heat to represent the school anyway," said the Wee One to Frank a little later. "Second place is just as good as first place. That lets Dixon, you, and Wheeler in to represent Queen's in the half-mile."

"How did Chip come to get so far ahead of you? We were up at the curve waiting for you, and we thought you had surely dropped through a hole in the ice. There was nothing to it but Dixon. And then you began to come, but it was a close squeeze. What was the matter?"

"Oh, some one got in Dixon's way and Dixon ran into him and knocked him into my way, and I nearly fell over him and lost ten yards on account of it."

"I'll bet a pair of my best socks it wasn't an accident. Hoppin and Chip are great friends. I'll bet it was all cooked up to throw you."

"I don't believe it," said Frank. "He wouldn't be as mean as that. I haven't hurt him." But the Wee One held his own opinion.

The mile heat trial brought out some good racing, and Hasbrook was the victor. Connor and Day finished second and third. They were two Juniors who were not identified with any athletics, but they showed themselves capable of making a good race.

At the gymnasium, after the trials, the names of the candidates were posted prominently as follows:

100 yards—Turner, Hillard, Robbins.

Half-mile—Dixon, Wheeler, Armstrong.

Mile—Hasbrook, Connor, Day.

"And now," said the master, "I have a little announcement to make. I have just sent this information to Warwick, also. You will be pleased to learn that there are to be three very handsome cups for the winners of these three events. They are to be suitably engraved and awarded after the races. I assure you they are very handsome trophies, and the winners will not only bring honor to the school, but will have something to remember the event by. The giver of the cups is our young friend, David Powers."

There was a spontaneous cheer for David, and all turned to look for the individual just named, but he had beaten a hasty retreat when Mr. Parks began his remarks, and was even now cutting for his room as fast as he could go.