Several times he glanced over to where his carefully polished and well-sharpened skates, strapped together, lay on a side table. Each look caused him to shrug his shoulders a bit. He could easily imagine he heard the delightful clang of steel runners cutting into that smooth sheet of new ice out at the mill pond; and the figures of the happy skaters would pass before his eyes. Yes, probably Sue Barnes would be there, too, with her chums, Ivy Middleton and Peggy Noland, wondering, it might be, how he, Hugh, could deny himself such a glorious opportunity for the first real good skate of the season.
Then Hugh would heave a little sigh, and apply himself harder than ever to his task. When 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.