When she had reached the bank, Grace heard him trotting behind her with
his little wagon. In another moment there was a tug at the board. She
turned and shook her fist angrily at him; but, without regarding her in
the least, he lifted the plank and rested it on the wagon. Then motioning
her to hold up the back end, he started on a run down the bank.

"The poor soul thinks he's a horse, I suppose" she said to herself, "but
what difference does it make, if we can only get the plank to Tom and
Julia?"

Grace soon saw, however, that the idea was not entirely idiotic. Later she
was to offer up a prayer of thanks for that same child's wagon. The deaf
and dumb man was wearing heavy Arctic rubbers, which kept him from
slipping; while Grace, whose soles were as smooth as glass, kept her
balance admirably by means of the other end of the plank.

Tom and Julia Crosby had now been nearly ten minutes in the water. Twice
the ice had broken under Tom's grasp, while Julia, who seemed unable to
help herself, had thrown all her weight on the poor boy, while she called
wildly for help and heaped Grace with reproaches for running away.

"If it were not for the fact that it would be the act of a coward,"
exclaimed Tom at last, his teeth chattering with cold, "I would let go of
your arm and give up the job of supporting you in this ice water for
talking about Grace like that. Of course she has gone for help. Haven't
you found out long ago that she is the right sort?"

"Well, why did she go in the wrong direction?" sobbed Julia. "Everybody is
over on the other bank. There is nothing but an ice house over here."