TIBERIUS SMITH
"Before he could retort, I answered my own query by tripping over my sword and falling against him. The tinkling of our two forms in collision reverberated loudly from the frozen bosom of the Spoon waters and reminded me of the gong on an ambulance. My unintentional ramming of Tib caused the foe to pause, suspicious of some trick, and then retreat again to the lake. And while they deliberated, Tib and I surrendered our equilibrium, and as he cried, 'Charge, Chester, charge!' we gracefully toppled over the edge of the bluff and shot down to the ice, I feet first, Tib headlong. We were second-hand meteors.
"Then was the beauty of our garb demonstrated. Being steel, we could skate just as well on our back or head as on our feet. We struck the petrified sons from Farthest North in a masterly manner. Nothing but a stone wall could stop us; I felt as if I were inside a runaway freight-train. I heard one poor devil screech shrilly as I ran over him. I tried to look out to identify him, as I had aimed myself at the chief, but the pace baffled me. In shooting the bluff I had made a right-end play, for about ten yards' gain, while Tib had bucked the centre for as much more. My drive, I shall always contend, was the acme of energetic, manly grace, while Tib, eschewing the beautiful, was crude force personified. He pivoted on his hip-pads just before strik-
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