360 Hans Brinker

The fine fellow is already among the spectators, gazing as
eagerly as the rest.

A cloud of feathery ice flies from the heels of the skaters as
they “ bring to,” and turn at the flagstaffs.

Something black is coming now, one of the boys: it is all
we know. He hastouched the vox humana stop of the crowd ;
it fairly roars. Now they come nearer; we can see the red
cap. There’s Ben, there ’s Peter, there’s Hans !

Hans is ahead. Young Madame van Gend almost crushes
the flowers in her hand: she had been quite sure that Peter
would be first. Carl Schummel is next, then Ben, and the
youth with the red cap. The others are pressing close. A tall
figure darts ‘from among them. He passes the red cap, he
passes Ben, then Carl. Now it is an even race between him
and Hans. Madame van Gend catches her breath.

It is Peter! He is ahead! Hans shoots past him. Hilda’s
eyes fill with tears: Peter must beat. Annie’s eyes flash
proudly. Gretel gazes with clasped hands: four strokes more
will take her brother to the columns.

He is there! Yes; but so was young Schummel just a sec-
ond before. At the last instant, Carl, gathering his powers,
had whizzed between them, and passed the goal.

“ CarL SCHUMMEL, ONE MILE!” shouts the crier.

Soon Madame van Gleck rises again. The falling handker-
chief starts the bugle; and the bugle, using its voice as a bow-
string, shoots off twenty girls like so many arrows.

It is a beautiful sight ; but one has. not long to look: before
we can fairly distinguish them, they are far in the distance.
This time they are close upon one another. It is hard to say, as
they come speeding back from the flagstaff, which will reach
the columns first. There are new faces among the foremost, —