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Amid the chorus of exclamations and inquiries he preserved a quiet, whimsical demeanor, glancing about as if rather interested in this desert island. There it was, and that was enough for him. "If this island is going to keep moving you'll have to put a license plate on it, Roly," he drawled. "First thing you know you'll have the inland waterway inspectors after you.
Roly-Poly kept prancing around in front, running here and there, and barking louder than ever. "Don't get in our way, Roly!" called Mr. Blake with a laugh, "or we might skate right over you!" "Bow-wow!" barked the little poodle dog. And I suppose that was his way of saying: "No, I won't! I'll be good." Hal and Mab were beginning to understand the first simple rules of skating.
"But always be careful of air holes, for the ice around them is easily broken, and you might go through." "Poor Roly-Poly!" sighed Mab. "I wish he had been careful." "So do I," spoke Hal. "How would you like to go fishing through the ice?" asked Daddy Blake, so the children would have something new to think about, and not feel sorry about Roly. "Fishing through the ice?" cried Hal.
He saw Hal's package on the floor, and, thinking, I suppose, that it must be meant for him to play with, the little poodle dog at once began to drag it away. Though, as the ground was frozen, I don't know how he was going to bury it, if that was what he intended to do. "Hi there, Roly!" cried Hal. "Come back with that, if you please, sir!"
Is Roly-Poly?" Roly was whirling about, barking and trying to catch his tail, so I guess he was not much hurt. The truth was that both Hal and Roly were so fat and plump, that falling down a few cellar steps did not hurt them in the least. "Well, now we'll look at the burst water pipe," said Daddy Blake, when the excitement was over.
But Roly could not dig in the hard ice, and the ground was also frozen too solidly for him to scratch. So all the little poodle dog could do was to bark. "There we are!" cried Mr. Blake, after a bit. "See, children, the ice is more than six inches thick. It will be safe for us to skate on!" Hal and Mab ran to look into the little hole their father had cut in the ice.
So he stopped on the stairs, aghast at this new misfortune, and feeling himself at the end of all his resources. Roly knew him at once, and began to dance delightedly up and down on the stair in his little bronze shoes. "Buzzer Dicky," he cried, "dear buzzer Dicky, tum 'ome to party!" "It's not brother Dicky," said Paul miserably; "it's all a mistake."
"My knife has dug down in the ice just like your dog Roly-Poly used to dig a hole for a bone." "Poor Roly!" sighed Mab. "I wish we had him now!" "But he's gone," said Hal. "Well never see him again," and he looked at Charlie's knife down in the ice. "What made it do that, Daddy?" he asked. "What made it sink down?" "The knife was warmer than the ice, and melted a hole in it," explained Mr. Blake.
Roland clenched both fists and thrust his chin out pugnaciously. "I'd been a-goin' steady with Josie Lockwood for more'n a year before you come here and thought that, on account of her money, you could sneak in and cut me out...." "Was her money the reason you were after her, Roly?" "What ?" The question brought Roland momentarily up in the wind.
And he tried to snatch it, but Roly closed his fist over it and pouted, "It isn't yours," he said, "it's Roly's. Roly found it." Paul's fears rose again; would he be wrecked in port after all? His ear, unnaturally strained, caught the sound of the front door being opened, he heard the Doctor's deep voice booming faintly below, then the noise of persons ascending.
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