CHAPTER I
A MEETING ON THE ICE
THERE had been almost a week of zero weather and the Hudson River in the neighborhood of Coleville and Ferry Hill was frozen hard and fast from shore to shore. They were cutting ice below Coleville, and Dick Somes had watched them for some time before crossing the river in the teeth of a bitter east wind and reaching the shelter of the opposite shore. There, with the trees protecting him from the icy blast, he turned up-stream once more and skated more leisurely along the margin.
It was the middle of an afternoon in early January, to be exact, the third day of the new year; and overhead sunlight and clouds held alternate sway. But the sun, already nearing the summit of the distant hills, held little warmth even when it managed to escape for a moment from the flying banks of cloud, and Dick, accustomed though he was to the intense cold of the western mountains and prairies, was glad to escape for a while from that biting wind which apparently entertained not the slightest respect for his clothing and which numbed him through and through.
The river was nearly deserted. Directly across from him, nearly a half-mile away, a few skaters were to be seen keeping to the smooth ice near shore. A mile below black specks moved about in front of the big ice-houses. But for the rest, Dick had the river to himself. Or, at least, so he thought until, rounding a slight curve, he caught sight of a figure seated on the edge of the bank. Perhaps the wind whipping the tops of the trees drowned the ring of Dick’s skates, or perhaps the girl with the brown sweater, gray skirt and white tam-o’-shanter was too much absorbed with the broken skate strap in her hand to heed anything else. At least, she was unaware of Dick’s approach, and so that youth had ample opportunity to observe his discovery as he skated slowly along.
Under the white tam-o’-shanter was a good deal of very red hair, and under the red hair was a pretty, healthy face with rosy cheeks, an impertinent little up-tilted nose, a pair of clear blue eyes and a small mouth which, just at this moment, was pursed in a pout of annoyance to match the frown on her forehead. The hanging skate and the broken strap told their tale and Dick, on his way past, wheeled and slid up to the distressed maiden.
“Hello,” he said. “Break your strap?”
The girl looked up with a start and studied him a moment in silence. Then she tossed the longer piece of the offending leather to him and he caught it deftly.
“Yes,” she said, “just look at the old thing! And I haven’t another and I’m half a mile from home. Roy told me I ought to have the other kind of skates and you can just wager I’m going to after this!”
“Well, you could have one of my straps,” answered Dick, “only I don’t wear them.”
“Yes, and I could pick one off the trees only they don’t grow there,” she answered sharply. Dick laughed and in a moment the girl joined him.
“I dare say it’s a joke,” she said, “but when you come out to skate you don’t just like to have to sit on a rock and hold your foot in your hand.”
“‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Break your strap?’”
“Oh, I can fix you up,” said Dick carelessly. “Here, wait a minute.” He drew off his gloves, tossed them with the broken strap on to the bank and drew the neck of his sweater down. “Out our way we generally mend things with barbed wire, but there doesn’t seem to be any handy, so I guess this’ll do until you get home.” With a final tug he brought forth a blue four-in-hand necktie and held it forth.
“But—but that’s your tie!” protested the girl.
“Yes, but I don’t need it. Besides, it’s old.”
“It looks brand-new,” answered the girl.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “Put your foot out, please.”
“But it’ll spoil it, won’t it?” she asked.
“Don’t care if it does. I’ve got lots more, and I never liked this one anyhow.”
“Well—” She put out the foot with the disabled skate and Dick substituted the blue necktie for the broken strap. When the skate was once more firmly in place and a nice blue bow-knot adorned the instep of her shoe the girl broke into laughter.
“Isn’t it lovely?” she cried, wriggling her foot around and viewing it at all angles. “Think of wearing neckties on your feet! I do wish I had one for the other foot too!”
“Sorry I haven’t any more,” laughed Dick. “How would a handkerchief do?”
She shook her head.
“No, I tried using my handkerchief, but it wasn’t big enough. Cold, isn’t it?”
“Awfully.” She got to her feet and tried the skate. It held well and she turned a grateful countenance to Dick. “I’m very much obliged,” she said sweetly; “and I’ll send the tie to you—or another one like it—when I get home. Do you live around here? I’ve never seen you before, I guess.”
“Oh, never mind,” he answered. “I don’t want it. You’ll have to go kind of easy with it, though, I guess, or it’ll get loose.” He rescued his gloves and drew them on his chilled fingers. “I’ll go along with you, if you like, in case it comes undone.”
“I asked you a question,” she replied imperiously. He looked at her amusedly.
“Oh, so you did,” he said. “You asked if I lived around here, didn’t you?” The girl’s head went into the air and the corners of her mouth came down.
“If you don’t care to answer, I’m sure you needn’t,” she said haughtily. Dick laughed.
“Oh, I don’t mind. I live over there.” He nodded across the river. “I’m at Hammond Academy.”
“Oh,” said the girl. “You talk as though you weren’t ashamed of it!”
“Ashamed of it?” he repeated in a puzzled way. “Why should I be? Isn’t Hammond all right?”
“For those who like it,” she replied.
“Then you don’t like it,” he laughed. “Why not?”
“Because—because—” She stopped and drew the collar of her brown sweater higher about her neck. “I’m going now,” she announced. “I don’t think you need come. I’m very much obliged. And I’ll send the necktie to you at Hammond.”
“Who are you going to send it to?” he asked.
“Oh! That’s so, who is it? I don’t want to know your name, but if you like to tell me—”
He shook his head.
“I saw you first,” he said. “You tell me your name and then I’ll tell you mine.”
The girl in the brown sweater had started off and Dick had taken his place beside her. For a moment they skated in silence. Then:
“I’m Harry Emery,” she announced.
“Oh,” he answered indifferently. “And do you live around here?” She turned upon him in surprise.
“You’re just pretending!” she said after a moment’s examination of his countenance.
“Pretending what?”
“That you don’t know who I am. Why, every Hammond boy knows the girl that beat their best skater last winter!”
“Did you do that?” he asked in admiration. “I’ll bet you couldn’t do it this winter.”
“Why not?” she demanded.
“Because I don’t believe you could beat me.”
“Want to try it?” she challenged. He shook his head.
“Not while you’ve got one skate strapped on with a necktie,” he answered. “But if you think you’d like a race some time you let me know.”
She looked him over speculatively and what she saw must have impressed her a little, for there was a note of uncertainty in her voice when she said:
“I guess I could beat you, Mr. Conceit. I beat Schonberg last winter. Can you skate faster than he can?”
“I don’t know. I never saw him.”
“Never saw him!” she cried. “How long have you been at Hammond?”
“Since about this time yesterday,” he replied smilingly.
“Oh!” she said. “You’ve just come? You weren’t there in the fall?”
He shook his head.
“Just got here yesterday afternoon and wish I was back where I came from,” he answered cheerfully. “There’s only about a dozen fellows over there and they’re the no-accountest lot I ever did see. I didn’t know when the new term began and so I just moseyed up here to find out. It doesn’t start until the day after to-morrow. Maybe by that time I’ll get sick of it and pull my freight for home.”
“Run away, do you mean?” asked Harry Emery breathlessly.
“Oh, no, just change my mind. I haven’t paid my tuition yet, and I guess I could light out if I wanted to, any time before school begins. And I’ve got a good mind to do it.”
“Serves you right for not going to a—well, another school!” said the girl.
“I suppose so. But I didn’t know. Dad’s lawyer in New York knew about Hammond and said it was all right. So I came up. Maybe I’ll like it better when the rest of the fellows get back.”
“No, you won’t,” answered Harry decidedly. “Why didn’t you come to our school?”
Dick looked amused.
“Is it a girl’s school?” he asked.
“Of course not, silly! It’s Ferry Hill, and everybody who knows anything says it’s the best school around here; the best school anywhere!”
“Oh, boys and girls both, eh? I don’t think I’d like that.”
“But it isn’t!”
“Isn’t it? But if you go there—?”
“I don’t go to school there; I just live there. My father is the Principal.”
“Oh, now I savvy,” said Dick. “Where is it? Is it nice? I’d like to take a look at it.”
“It’s just up here a bit further,” answered Harry. “You can see it from Hammond. Haven’t you noticed?” Dick shook his head.
“It’s on a hill,” continued Harry, “and you would have seen it if you weren’t blind. It’s the nicest school there is, and the boys are dandy. And we can beat Hammond at anything—foot-ball, base-ball, tennis, hock—well, not hockey, maybe, but we’ve only played one year; but we’ll beat them this year, at that, too!”
“Sounds like the real thing,” laughed Dick. “How big is it!”
“Well, it’s smaller than Hammond,” Harry acknowledged grudgingly, “but it—it’s more select! There are forty-two boys this year; there were forty-three last season when Otto Ferris was here.”
“What happened to him?” asked Dick.
“He got sick and went home. I’m glad of it; I hate him.”
“I tell you what you do,” said Dick after a moment. “You show me what your school is like. Maybe if I get any more soured on Hammond I’ll skate over with my trunk and try Ferry Hill.”
“Do you mean it?” cried Harry.
“Why not?”
“But—but you couldn’t!”
“Oh, yes I could. I can do as I like, I guess.”
“But they wouldn’t let you!”
“Who wouldn’t let me?”
“They—them—over at Hammond!”
“I’d like to see them try and stop me,” answered Dick with a laugh. “I haven’t entered their school yet, you know, and I don’t owe them anything but a day’s board and lodging. You produce your school, Miss Emery, and I’ll look it over.”
“And if you like it you’ll come?” cried Harry, her blue eyes dancing. Dick hesitated, then:
“Yes, I’ll come if I like it!” he answered.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Come on, then!” cried Harry. “I’ll race you to the boat-house!”