“My goodness! My goodness! I could sing a hallelujah!” declared Chet, his eyes streaming now. “Hold on, now, Car’lyn May! I’m goin’ to drag you across. You hang right on to that sled.” “Oh, I’ll cling to it, Chet,” declared the little girl. “And do take me off this ice, quick, for I think it’s floating out with me.” Chet drew on the rope, the sled moved forward and plunged, with just a little splash, into the pool. Prince barked desperately as his little mistress screamed. “Oh, I’m getting wet, Chet!” she shrieked. “Hold hard!” yelled Chet in return. “You won’t get very wet.” In a few seconds he had “snaked” the sled to the edge of the ice floe on which he stood. He picked the sobbing Carolyn May off the sled and then lifted that up, too. The little girl was wet below her waist. “I’m—I’m just as co—cold as I—I can be,” she chattered. “Oh, Chet! take me home please!” “I’m a-going to,” chattered the lad in return. He dragged off his coat now, wrung it as dry as he could, and wrapped it around Carolyn May’s legs before he seated her on the sled again. Then he seized the rope once more and started towards the sound of the chapel bell. How glad he was that the bell still sounded! He was sure of that—and it was the only thing he was sure of. He could only stagger on, now, for his feet were very heavy, and he felt as though he should fall at any moment. And if he did fall he was quite sure he would not be able to get up again. Chet knew he could not face Mr. Stagg if anything really bad happened to “Hannah’s Car’lyn.” All his hopes of advancement and ultimate success would be swept away, too, if this adventure ended in tragedy. Foolish as perhaps the boy’s longings and hopes were, the mark he had set himself to gain was very real, indeed, to Chet Gormley. He hoped some day to see that sign, “Stagg & Gormley,” over the hardware store door. If for no other reason than that, he would not give up now. The chapel bell tolled on. The sleet beat in his face stingingly. He panted and staggered, but persevered. “I’ll show him,” murmured Chet. “I won’t give up! Poor little kid—I guess _not_! I’ll get her home——” Prince began to bark. He could not move forward much faster than Chet did; but he faced to the right and began to bark with persistence. “There—there’s something over there, Chet,” murmured Carolyn May. She was all but breathless herself. Then, through the wind and the storm, came a faint hail. Prince eagerly pursued his barking. Chet tried to reply to the hail, but his voice was only a hoarse croak. “We’ve got to keep on—we’ve got to keep on,” muttered the lad, dragging the sled slowly. His submersion in the icy water had been a serious matter. His limbs were too heavy, it seemed, for further progress. He scarcely knew now what he was doing—only the tolling of the chapel bell seemed to draw him on—and on—and on——