The Chums of Scranton High at Ice Hockey | Page 8

just then, darker than he had ever before
imagined it could look. It terrified him, too, and caused him to shiver as
though someone had dashed a bucket of ice-cold water over him
unexpectedly.
"Yes, I recognize these skates very well, Chief," Hugh told the waiting
officer.
"And do they belong to you, Hugh?" continued the officer, with a stern
look at the cringing culprit near by, who weakly leaned against the
table for support after his recent rough handling.
"They were my property until just ten minutes, more or less, ago,
Chief," said Hugh, deliberately fixing Nick with his eye, so as to
impress things on him in a way he could never forget. "Then I had an
offer from Nick here to buy them. At first I was averse to letting him
have them, but I changed my mind. These skates belong to Nick, Chief.
You must set him free, and not hold this against him. He's going to
wipe the slate clean this time and astonish folks here in Scranton by
showing them what a fellow of his varied talents can do, once he sets
out to go straight. And, for one, I wish him the best of success from the
bottom of my heart. I hope you enjoy your skates, Nick."
He held out his hand, and the astounded Nick mechanically allowed
Hugh to squeeze his digits. But not one word could he say, simply
stared at Hugh as though he had difficulty in understanding such
nobility of soul; then, taking the skates, he went from the room. They
could hear the clatter of his heels as he hurried down the stairs, as
though afraid Hugh might yet repent and send the officer after him.

Of course, Chief Wambold departed, shrugging his shoulders as though
still more than half convinced there had been something crooked about
Nick's suspicious actions.
Of course Thad had to be told the whole amazing story. He shook his
head at the conclusion, and went on record as being a doubter by
saying:
"I wish you success in your wonderful experiment, Hugh, I sure do; but
all the same I don't believe for a minute the leopard is going to change
its spots, or that Nick Lang, the worst boy in Scranton, can ever
reform."
Hugh would say nothing further about it, only, of course, he made Thad
promise to keep everything secret until he gave permission to speak. If
Nick made good this would never happen.
That night Hugh had a jolly time, and it was fairly late when he crept
into bed. As he lay there, instead of going to sleep immediately, he
looked out of the window toward the west, where a bright star hung
above the horizon. It seemed like a magnet to Hugh, who lay there and
watched for its setting, all the while allowing his thoughts to roam back
to the remarkable happening of that afternoon.
"It's a toss-up, just as Thad says, whether anything worth while will
come of my experiment," he told himself; "but, anyhow, I've given
Nick something to think over. And if he makes the first advances
toward me I'm bound to meet him half-way. I only hope it turns out like
the story of Jean Valjean did. But there goes my Star of Hope down
behind the horizon; and now I'd better be getting some sleep myself.
All the same I'm glad I did it!"
And doubtless he slept all the more soundly because of the noble
impulse that had impelled him to save Nick Lang from the Reform
School.

CHAPTER IV
THE HOCKEY MATCH WITH A SCRATCH SEVEN
There was a large crowd present to watch the local hockey match that
morning. Not only were Scranton High pupils interested, but many of
the town folks seemed to find it convenient to stroll around to the field
that, during the recent summer, had been the scene of bitterly contested
baseball games.
Even a number of gentlemen were on hand to criticize, and also
applaud, according to what their judgment of the work of the young
athletes proved to be. Some of these men had been college players, or,
at least, interested in athletic sports. They hailed the awakening of
Scranton along these lines most heartily. And most of them had only
too gladly invested various sums in the up-building of the athletic
grounds.
Now that the high board-fence surrounded the large field, and the
carefully planned clubhouse stood at the near end, the grounds had a
business-like air. Those who knew just how to go about it had seen that
the water was just the right depth, and this was now frozen almost solid.
As the enclosure was limited in dimensions, it became apparent that
half of the ice should be given over