HARRY JULIAN gave the word.

No sooner was it out of his mouth than the two rivals dashed off in eager competition. In fact Rupert started before the word was fairly spoken and in consequence gained a slight lead upon his opponent. Slight, indeed, but still of importance, considering the shortness of the race-track.

The sight of Rupert just ahead put increased vigor into Tom’s efforts, and, setting his teeth hard, he skated as he had never done before. He was eager to win—more so than if any other boy had been in competition with him, for he knew that if he were defeated Rupert would never cease boasting of his victory.

Tom did not intend giving him that gratification if he could help it.

But if Tom was eager to win, the same can be said of Rupert. In his view, it would be disgraceful to be beaten by a boy who pegged shoes in his father’s shop.

So he, too, exerted himself to the utmost, and probably had never before skated as well.

Indeed, the boys were half way across the pond before Tom had succeeded in overtaking his rival. For a hundred yards the boys skated side by side, amid the intense excitement of the young spectators. But Tom had one important advantage over his rival. He was excited, it is true, but he breathed freely and easily, while Rupert was becoming short-breathed. He had evidently exerted himself beyond his strength.

Slowly, but perceptibly, Tom began to lead him. Now the race was three-quarters over. Rupert tried to make up the increasing gap between them, but it proved to be impossible. To his disappointment and rage he saw that his despised opponent must inevitably beat him. He could not make up his mind to this, and, to provide himself with a convenient excuse for his failure, he contrived to stumble and fall a hundred yards from the goal.

Unconscious of this, Tom kept on and finished the race. Then looking back, to his surprise he saw Rupert picking himself up from the ice.

He instantly wheeled round and started back.

“Did you fall, Rupert?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Rupert, sullenly.

“How did it happen?”

“I stumbled and fell.”

“I am sorry. I hope you are not hurt.”

“No, I am not hurt—that is, not much.”

By this time the other skaters were standing round the two rivals.

“Tom, I congratulate you on your victory,” said Harry Julian.

“What victory?” demanded Rupert, quickly.

“His victory in the race, to be sure, Rupert.”

“There has been no victory,” said Rupert, scowling.

“Why not?”

“Because I stumbled. Of course that prevented my winning.”

The boys looked at each other. They guessed why Rupert had stumbled.

“Tom was considerably ahead of you when you fell,” said Harry.

“He was a little ahead, but I could have made it up.”

“I don’t think you could.”

“That’s your opinion,” said Rupert, rudely. “I say I could.”

“Would you like to try it again?” asked Tom.

“It wouldn’t be a fair race. Your skates are different from mine.”

“They are not so good as yours.”

“I know that, but they are good enough for going.”

“You seem to have changed your opinion. You objected to my using Harry’s skates, which are like yours.”

“Because I wanted to give you the advantage of your own skates.”

“Are you willing to have a second trial, in which I use Harry’s skates?”

If Rupert had been prudent he would have made some excuse for declining, but I have already said that he was self-conceited about his skating, and he really believed that he could skate faster than Tom. In the event of a second trial, he would have a chance to show this. After slight hesitation, therefore, he said: “Yes; I’ll try again, just to satisfy you.”

It was decided to start from the further end of the pond, and again Harry Julian was selected to give the word.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes,” answered both boys.

“Then—go!”

This time both started together.

At equal speed they dashed out for the opposite shore. Tom was fresher than his rival, and he was not now obliged to exert himself as in the former race. Indeed, he kept himself partly in check, not caring to pass Rupert till they neared the end of the race, for he feared that when the latter found himself hopelessly in the rear he would again manage to stumble, and so deprive him of the laurels he had justly won.

Of course the boys who were looking on did not know this, and when they saw Tom and Rupert skating side by side when the race was three-quarters over, they watched with great excitement, uncertain which would win.

Now the race was seven-eighths over, and still the boys were skating side by side. It was difficult to tell which was ahead.

Rupert’s breath came quick and short. Only a little ahead was the goal, and there seemed as good a chance of his reaching it as of Tom’s doing so.

“Anyway, we shall come in together,” he thought, “and then the pegger boy can’t triumph over me.”

This would not be quite as well as winning the race, but it would certainly be a great deal better than being defeated.

But Rupert made no account of Tom’s reserved strength. Even as this thought passed through his mind, Tom made a brilliant spurt, and before Rupert fairly realized the situation, his rival had touched the goal, leaving him fifty feet behind.

He reddened with anger and mortification, utterly unable to devise any excuse for his failure.

At a little distance behind were the other skaters.

“That was a pretty race,” said Harry, as he came up. “I suppose you’ll admit that you are beaten, now, Rupert. Come, own up,” said Harry, seeing that Rupert remained silent. “You can’t deny that that was a fair race.”

“He wouldn’t have beaten me if I had been well,” said Rupert, thinking of an excuse at last.

“If you had been well?”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

“What’s the matter with you?”

“I’ve got a bad headache. I thought of stopping in the middle of the race, but I didn’t want to spoil it.”

There was not a boy within hearing who believed for a moment that Rupert was really troubled with a headache, so that his subterfuge was of no service to him.

“Your headache came on rather suddenly, didn’t it?” asked Harry, significantly.

“No; I’ve had it for half an hour.”

“When the race was first proposed did you have it?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” “I thought it might not interfere with me.”

“Then I suppose you don’t consider this a fair race?”

“Of course not. How can a fellow skate well when he’s got a splitting headache?”

“Would you have said anything about the headache if you had won?”

“Look here, Harry Julian, I don’t like the way you talk. If you mean to insult me say so at once.”

“I don’t care to insult anyone,” said Harry, coldly. “Since you don’t consider this a fair race I presume Tom will be willing to race you any time you may appoint. You can wait till you are in perfect health.”

“Yes,” said Tom, “I am ready to race any time. Rupert is an excellent skater, and I shouldn’t be at all surprised if he beat me some time,” he added, generously.

Such, however, was not the opinion of the boys. From what they had seen they entertained no doubt as to which was the better skater of the two, and Rupert would have risen in their opinion if he had manfully admitted his defeat.

At half-past nine the skating party broke up, and the young skaters went home.

Tom and Harry walked together.

“To-morrow evening,” said Tom, “I mean to call on Squire Simpson, and ask him about father’s life in California. I shall feel easier when I learn all that is to be known about it.”