In Frank's room that night there was a conference. The Wee One was giving his advice about how a skating race should be won. It was his notion that one should lay back of the leader, let him cut out the pace, and then beat him out just before the finish.

"I don't agree with you at all," cried Jimmy. "In the hundred anyway, you can't lay behind. You have to dig in for everything that's in you right from the start. I'm going to plan to go as fast as I can all the time, and get going as fast as I can as soon as I can."

"And I guess in my race I can't do much laying back either," said Frank. "Channing is entered in that half-mile for Warwick, and he has a long, powerful stroke. I was noticing him the other day. He goes like a breeze, and never seems to tire. And then there's Chip. I don't think I can beat either one of them. No, Mr. Patterson, I'm going to skate for all I'm worth all of the time, like Jimmy. If I only had a pair of skates that fitted me I'd have a better chance, but as it is, I'm afraid if Queen's wins, Chip will have to do it, for Robbins isn't fast enough to get away with Channing."

"Well, I'd rather see Warwick win than Chip," said the Wee One vindictively. "I'm going to pin my colors on you, Frank, and you've got the speed if you can last the distance out."

"I'll do the best I can," said Frank, "and if I can beat Dixon I'll be thankful, because he has stepped on me every time he got a chance since I came. And it's natural that I should want to get back at him somehow."

"Why didn't you get a pair of skates to fit you, anyway?" said the Wee One.

"Well, in the first place I didn't have the time, and in the second place I didn't have the price. The kind I want are those Ruddock skates, those long, thin, light ones with plates that screw to the soles of your shoes. Both of them put together would only weigh half a pound. And they cost money, my son," added Frank. "I'll have six pairs when I'm a millionaire. I'll have to do for Freshman year on my old Christmas present of two years ago. Now I'm going to ask you fellows to skip. I've got a lesson to prepare, and I'm going to get a good, big sleep to-night and then another good, big one to-morrow night and then I'll be ready for the fray."

"All right, Mr. Athlete," said the Wee One. "That means, Jimmy, that we are chucked out. Good night."

Frank was early in bed for he was determined to put all the chances there were in his favor. He slept like a top and was only aroused by David who was up uncommonly early.

"Going to take a little walk," said David; "it's early yet. See you later."

Frank was not through his ablutions when there was a knock at the door, and a messenger appeared with an express package. It was done up in stiff, grey paper, and inside the outer wrapping was another, and inside that an oblong paper box. When he got down to the box and opened it there lay a beautiful pair of Ruddock skates with long, thin, straight blades, the very things he had been wishing for. Inside was a card and on the card in script the name:

"Mr. John R. Powers."

"This is David's work I'll bet a dollar, and that's the reason he dug out of here so early. He knew they were coming."

There were tears of pleasure in his eyes as he tried the new skates on his shoes. They were just the thing in every way.

"What a bully fellow David was to think of such a thing"; and then at the thought of what he might do with them, his heart jumped—"They may give me a better chance to win," he whispered to himself.

Frank saw nothing of David till afternoon, for the latter had succeeded in dodging him, but finally he was cornered, and pleaded guilty to telephoning to his father the day the carnival was decided upon.

"I knew you couldn't do your best with the old, short things you had, and, oh, Frank, I want to see you win this race. Try them this afternoon and see how you like them."

"I can't help but like them," said Frank. "It was awfully good of you to do it, David. If I can't win with these I ought to be sent back to kindergarten."

And Frank did try them that afternoon, and they were all he could desire. The lightness was a relief to his feet after the heavier old skates, and the way he went over the course made the fellows who happened to be on the river, open their eyes in astonishment. Chip Dixon was one of these, and he noted the flash of the new skates and Frank's increased speed. But Frank had no time to give to Chip's envious eyes. He skated back leisurely up the course, tried a few starts and then swung into a steady stroke down over the course again. Every one along the half-mile was watching as he flashed past, going at great speed, and heads went wagging wisely.

"Armstrong for my money," said one of the boys. "He goes like a bird."

Frank finished the half, sat down on the float, removed the skates and headed for his room. Remembering, however, that he wanted some books, he changed his course and entered the library. He laid the precious skates down on a bench in one of the little alleys of the library, the better to continue the search. He may have been five or ten minutes at the work in hand, but he found the books he wanted and turned to pick up his skates. They were gone!

Frank dived frantically into the other alleys where he had been and looked everywhere. They were nowhere to be seen. He went to the desk and asked the librarian seated there, if he had seen "a paper box, so long, right over there." The assistants were called and questioned, but none of them had seen any such thing. There had been a dozen boys or more in the library, and they were coming and going, but neither the librarian nor the attendants had seen the missing package. Frank was heart-broken.

"Some one has picked them up by mistake, or perhaps Jimmy or Lewis took them as a joke and they'll be at my room when I go there."

But the skates were not at his room. Jimmy and Lewis were hunted up, but neither of them had been near the library.

"Was Dixon around," inquired Jimmy, "when you were at the library?"

"You're always thinking of him," said Frank. "I don't believe he's half as bad as you try to make him out. No, I didn't see him there, but I did see him on the ice and he saw the skates, for I saw him stop and look at them."

"Well, you can bet he knows something about them."

"I don't believe it," said Frank. "He couldn't be so contemptible."

At supper Frank confided his loss to David.

"I've got no luck at all. I shouldn't have let them leave my hands," said Frank in a passion of regret. "Serves me right."

"It is too bad, that's a fact," returned David. "But you must not blame yourself. It might have happened to any one. You couldn't keep them on your feet nor in your hands all the time. Don't worry about them. They may turn up, and if they don't you'll win anyway."

But Frank was inconsolable. He picked the old skates up from the corner where he had thrown them. They were as heavy as lead. He threw them down again almost discouraged, and all of David's cheerful words seemed to give him no help. He retired early, but had a bad night of it, dreaming that he was left far behind and that the crowd which watched him in the race yelled and jeered at him when he crossed the line minutes after the winner.

He felt better next morning, and still better when at about ten o'clock a big grey motor car rolled through the Queen's gate and set down at the head of the yard none other than his father and mother and Colonel Powers who had come up for the day. The Colonel had run up from New York in his big six-cylinder "Crescent," and had stopped long enough at Milton to pick up the Armstrong family. Perhaps the parents only happened there on that day, but perhaps David's letter had something to do with it. Anyway, there they were. There was a reception in Frank's room, and during it the loss of the skates came out.

"They may turn up yet," said Colonel Powers, "but perhaps it won't make such a difference as you think."

In spite of the loss it was a jolly party which sat down at the guest table in the dining-room that noon. The term was nearly over, and it had been one full of interest and some satisfaction. Frank and Jimmy had to tell in minute detail of David's great climb to save the Wee One, who was later brought around to the table and introduced to the visitors, and he, too, added his word of praise for David who was well-nigh bursting with embarrassment. He had thought that everyone had forgotten about the incident as he himself had almost forgotten. After the meal was over the guests had to see the burned end of Warren which was now undergoing repairs.

In the course of the inspection David somehow evaded the party, and when they reached Frank's room again David was not with them.

"Where is David?" Frank inquired.

"He was with us a minute ago," said Mr. Armstrong.

"Just dropped out of the procession," said Colonel Powers. "He's a little shy and did not relish being talked about, I guess. He said he was going down to see Henry, the driver of the car. They are great cronies. He may have gone for a little ride with him."

The races were set for two o'clock and it was now one o'clock.

"I must leave you," said Frank, "and go to the gym. I'd like to know where in thunder David is. I want to have him with me. He's so comforting, you know," and he picked up the clumsy skates from the corner. "A good place to see the finish of the races is from the shore road," he told them. "The road comes very near to the river just at the course."

Then in answer to the Colonel's offer to give him a motor ride to the racing course he said: "No, thank you, I'll skate up. But I wish I knew where David was."

"Good luck to you, my boy," called out Mr. Armstrong as Frank turned to go. "Win if you can, but if you can't, it's no disgrace. I know you'll make a good fight." Mrs. Armstrong put her arm around her son's neck, and kissed him for luck, and Colonel Powers patted his shoulder kindly.

"I know you're going to win, Frank. We'll find David and bring him up in the car. Good bye."

Frank hurried to the gym where he found everything in a bustle with the men preparing for the great event. Every one was going. From the windows where he was getting into his jersey and sweater he could see a steady procession of skaters from down the river, attracted to the ice carnival between the two schools. But his heart was sad and heavy, and he felt slow and logy. He tried to shake the feeling off, but couldn't.

"I guess it's all up with me in that half mile," he thought. "I can't do anything with these things," kicking savagely at the old skates which lay on the floor.

But it was time to be going, and with Jimmy he walked to the float, strapped on his skates, and started slowly up stream. He had hardly a word to say all the way up, while Jimmy was happily cheerful, and tried to work Frank into the same frame of mind.

In ten or fifteen minutes they were at the start of the hundred yard race where they found half the school crowding close to the course, and several hundred spectators waiting around. The crowd was every moment growing larger, and Mr. Parks and several assistants from both schools were hard put to it to keep the course clear.

Soon the Warwick representatives in the different events were on the scene, and as it was approaching the hour of two, the guards skated up and down frantically calling: "Keep back, keep back, the race is going to start right away."

Frank watched it all as though from a trance. He seemed to have no life for it, and no heart for the struggle which was coming. The skates felt like lead. And just now, to make him feel worse, Chip Dixon flashed past up the course with a brand-new pair of Ruddocks on his feet, smiling and confident.