"Well, you hold your tongue," cried Wingate Morse, tightening his skate-strap; "I wasn't talking to you." "Say that again, and I'll pitch into you," declared the champion with a very red face not altogether produced by the sharp air. "Haven't any time," said Wingate, striking off. "Come on, all you fellow's who are able to take care of yourselves, and get one good glorious good-by skate." All but two, the champion and St. George went, and their merry shouts came floating back as the pair left behind took off their skates, tossed them hurriedly into their waiting bags and set off on a hearty run for the depot. "I wanted to go awfully," confessed the champion on the way, "but I'll stick by you, St. George." "I'm unpopular," said the Saint, pulling up into a walk as they came into sight of the depot. "But I suppose that makes no odds so long as my mother isn't scared to death when I don't get home by the right time." "They're lost, they're lost!" exclaimed the champion excitedly. "My goodness me! look at that smoke! She's coming in!" Sure enough, "She" was. And having no time to lose other than the moment in which the champion wildly jumped up and down in a snow-drift screaming to the fellows, by this time at the head of the pond, to "Come on--she's in!" they soon found themselves in a comfortable seat, and the train pulling back to town at a smart rate. "I lost my head," remarked the champion, "and that's a fact," as he stumbled along the aisle; "but then, I guess nobody saw me. Whew! but won't those chaps catch it, though, when they do get home." Just then from the car ahead walked in Thomas, Mr. Bangs' man. He glanced anxiously along the car-length, peering right and left. When his eye fell upon "St. George" and the champion he brightened up, and hurried as fast as was possible with his rotundity down to them. "Where are the rest of the boys?" he asked quickly. "Left," said St. George concisely. "Skating up to the other end of the pond." It was all told in a second. Thomas said something which it was well the boys could not hear in the noise of the bounding train, then rushed frantically back for the conductor, followed by St. George and the champion, on the way repeating-- "Master Wilfred told me he'd be sure to catch the train, so I came down the back way, and jumped on at the last minute. I didn't see the use of staying another night in that house." By the time he reached the conductor, realizing the result of his unfaithfulness to collect all the boys and bring them safely back to town on the five o'clock train, the unhappy man was in such a state that the two boys had to take turns in explaining to that railroad official what the matter was. "Do run the train back," cried St. George imploringly; "you'll be paid well." "Are you wild?" cried the conductor sharply. "This train is bound for town with a lot of passengers who have something else to do than to turn back to hunt up foolish boys."