"We'll hold him and let Ben do the face-washing." Dick, Tom and Greg had shot past the scene.

Now they circled and came back, their faces aglow with the fast sport and the keen air.
Hen tried to make for the shore, but got in where the surface of the ice was rough and choppy.

Ned Allen and Toby reached out to grasp Hen as they neared him.

Young Dutcher made a switching-away movement, and the next instant he had fallen flat on his face.

He let out a howl.
"We've got him!" declared Toby, as he and Allen pounced on the prostrate one.
"Yes, but let him alone, fellows," urged Dick, reaching the scene and halting.