"But there must be some good in that fat man," Nan said, reflectively.
"Humph! Now find some excuse for him, Nan Sherwood!" said her chum.
"No. Not an excuse. He maligned Papa Sherwood and I can't forgive him. But his little boy thinks the world of him, I can see; and Mr. Bulson is very fond of the little boy—'Junior,' as he calls him."
"Well," quoth Bess, "so does a tiger-cat love its kittens. He's a gouty, grumpy old fellow, with an in-growing grouch. I couldn't see a mite of good in him with a spyglass."
Her chum laughed heartily at that statement. "Well, let us hope he will keep so far away from us after this that we will have to use a spyglass to see him at all."
"And there's another person who can stay away from us," said Bess, suddenly.
"Who's that?" queried Nan, looking up at the change in Bess' voice.
"Linda Riggs. She's coming this way," Bess said, tartly.
This conversation occurred in the skating rink, and while Nan was having her skates strapped on by an attendant, for Walter Mason was not at the moment in sight.
The haughty daughter of the railroad president evidently proposed speaking with the chums from Tillbury. They had not seen her since the runaway and more than once Nan had wondered just what attitude Linda would take when they again met.