The Chums of Scranton High at Ice Hockey | Page 5

he had an unpleasant thing to do he never allowed temptation to swerve him. And, after all, it was pretty snug and comfortable there in his den, Hugh told himself; besides, that was a long walk home for a tired fellow to take, even in good company.
Then he heard his mother speaking to someone who must have rung the doorbell.
"Go up to the top of the stairs, and turn to the right. You will find Hugh in his den, I believe. Hugh, are you there? Well, here's a visitor to see you."
Supposing, of course, that it must be one of his close friends, who for some reason had not gone off skating, and wished to see him about some matter of importance, Hugh, after answering his mother, had gone on skimming the subject on which his mind just then happened to be set.
He heard the door open, and close softly. Then someone gave a gruff cough. Hugh looked around and received quite a surprise.
Instead of Thad Stevens, Owen Dugdale, Horatio Juggins, "Just" Smith, or Julius Hobson he saw--Nick Lang!
"Oh, hello, Nick!" he commenced to say, a little restrained in his welcome; for, of course, he could give a guess that the other had come again to try and buy his skates, which Hugh was not much in favor of selling.
He shoved a chair forward, determined not to be uncivil at any rate. After that talk with Thad about this fellow it can be understood that Hugh was still bent on studying Nick, with the idea of deciding whether he did actually have a grain of decency in his make-up, such as could be used as a foundation on which to build a new structure.
The outlook was far from promising. Indeed, he could not remember ever seeing Nick look more antagonistic than just then, even though he tried to appear friendly.
"But then," Hugh was telling himself, "I reckon now Jean Valjean was about as fierce looking a human wild beast as that good old priest had ever seen at the time he invited the ex-convict into his snug house, and horrified his sister by asking him to sit at table with them, and spend the night there under his hospitable roof."
"You wanted to see me about something, did you, Nick?" he asked the other.
Nick had dropped down on the chair. His furtive gaze went around the room as if it aroused his curiosity, for this was really the first occasion when he had ever graced Hugh's den with his company.
When his eyes alighted on the coveted skates Nick's face took on an expressive grin. Then he turned toward Hugh, to say, almost whiningly:
"Sure thing, Hugh. I thought mebbe I'd coax you to let me have the skates, if I told you I'd managed to get another half dollar by selling a pair of my pigeons. Here's a dollar and a half; take it, and gimme the runners, won't you?"
His manner was intended to be ingratiating, but evidently Nick was so accustomed to bullying everyone with whom he came in contact that it was next to impossible for him to change his abusive ways. Hugh felt less inclined than ever to accommodate him. Under other and more favorable conditions he might have been tempted to promise Nick to hand him over the skates, for nothing, after he had actually received the expected new ones.
"I'm sorry to refuse you again, Nick," Hugh said coldly; "but at present I have no other skates, and, as I expect to take part in a hockey match with the scratch Seven to-morrow, I'll need my runners."
"But there's nothing to hinder you selling me the same, say next week, that I can see; unless mebbe you're just holdin' out on account of an old grudge against me. How about that, Hugh?"
Hugh was still unconvinced.
"Just now I'm not in a humor to sell the skates, Nick," he said. "If I change my mind, I'll let you know about it. That's final. And when I dispose of my skates it's my intention to give them away, not sell them."
He turned to do something at the desk where he was sitting. Meanwhile, Nick had shuffled away, as though meaning to leave the room. When Hugh looked up he was half-way through the door, and turning to say with a sneer:
"I ain't going to forget this on you, Hugh Morgan, believe me. I thought I'd give you a chanct to smooth over the rough places between us; but I see you don't want anything to do with a feller who's got the reputation they give me. All right, keep your old skates then!"
With that he hurried down the stairs. And a minute afterwards Hugh, happening to glance over to the table at the side of the room, made a startling discovery. The