The Clock by James Lincoln Collier

the ice and fell, even though they knew that soon enough they’d have to take their turns with the poles.
    Then Mr. Hoggart said something to one of the boys. The boy dropped his pole and trotted off out of sight around the corner of the building. The other boys stood there, leaning on the poles, and the boys leaning out the windows began to jeer even louder, until Mr. Hoggart shook a fist at them and cursed, and they shut up for a little.
    We waited, and in a couple of minutes the boy came back into sight, carrying an ax. He went over to the waterwheel, and began to hack at the ice. The main trouble was the ice that was frozen between the wheel and the wall of the spillway it turned in. If they could clear the ice out from there, and from the same place on the other side of the wheel, up against the mill, the wheel would move again.
    The boys went on hacking. The ice was spraying up into the sunlight, sparkling yellow as gold. It was a pretty sight. We girls went on leaning out the windows, watching. They’d get the wheel moving in time, but in the meanwhile we could enjoy our holiday.
    After a while the boy with the ax got tired, and another one took his place. Mr. Hoggart said something to the boy who had just quit. Off he went out of sight around the corner of the building. In about two minutes he was back. Coming along behind him was Robert. He was having a lot of trouble keeping his footing on the ice around the spillway.
    Mr. Hoggart picked up one of the poles and jammed it down between the wheel and the wall of the spillway. It went pretty far down, which meant that they’d got that side of the wheel pretty well cleared. Mr. Hoggart stood back, the boy went to work again with the ax, and in a moment that side of the wheel was free.
    Now Mr. Hoggart turned to Robert and said something. Robert took the ax and limped to the wheel. But he did not lean down and start hacking at the ice. Instead, he began to climb up on the wheel, holding onto the icy struts with one hand, carrying the ax with the other. It was going to be his job to hack the ice out from between the wheel and the other side of the spillway.
    The problem was that to do that he’d have to work from on top of the waterwheel itself. The wheel was right up against the side of the mill. There wasn’t any place to get at the ice, except from up on the wheel.
    Now he was lying on top of the wheel, facedown. He began swinging the ax into the space between the wheel and the mill wall. Suddenly my back went all chill and my heart began to race. For I saw what it was all about. Once Robert had chopped a certain amount of ice out, the pressure of the water would suddenly break the wheel free. There was no telling in advance when that moment would come. The wheel would suddenly begin to turn, and where would Robert be then? If he had two good feet, he could quickly stand and make a jump for it. But with that bad foot Robert wasn’t much for standing quickly, much less jumping. One little slip and he’d be gone over the wheel into the spillway, with that wheel turning on top of him.
    I grabbed up my coat and raced out of the slubbing room, down the long flight of stairs and around the back of the mill, where Mr. Hoggart couldn’t see me. I ran on, slipping and sliding down the mill road, until I got to the village road. Here the footing was better. I went on running, my feet twisting and turning in the ruts, until I got to the Browns’. I banged on the door, and then waited. In a minute the door swung open, and there was Mrs. Brown. “Annie—”
    â€œMr. Brown’s got to come right away,” I shouted. “Mr. Hoggart’s put Robert on top of the waterwheel to chop out the ice. He’s trying to kill Robert. He’s bound to be flung into the spillway w hen the wheel breaks free. He can’t jump like the rest.”
    â€œLord, is this true, Annie?” She turned away from the door, and in a minute Mr.