“That is just why I’ve come around, ma’am, to try and influence Harry to take a spin with me on my iceboat,” Paul continued, eagerly. “You see, we were just going to have a run before, when Pud Snooks interrupted us with that unpleasant bit of news; and Harry backed out. We lost all interest in the sport soon afterward, and I’ve really had little heart for it since.”
“It was good of you to think of your friend in this way, Paul,” the widow said, laying a hand on the lad’s shoulder, and looking affectionately into his manly face. “And depend on it, Harry is worthy of all your regard. I know something about boys, even though I was never blessed with one myself; and if ever there lived a clean, brave and loyal fellow, Harry is one. And Paul, he must go off with you to get some fresh air. This staying in, and thinking of all his troubles, is not the best thing for even his strong nature.”
“Then please back me up,” said Paul, “in case he tries to beg off. I’m going to insist; and I think I know how to reach Harry’s weak spot. I’ll give him to understand that if he refuses, it’s going to spoil all my Saturday morning sport. Harry will make sacrifices for a chum that he would never think of doing for himself. And now I’ll push in on him, if you don’t mind.”
As he opened the door of Harry’s little den, where the boy did his studying, and kept such traps as boys usually accumulate, he found the object of his solicitude bending over a table, and deep in some book.
“Hello! here, old book-worm, this is no morning to bury yourself here indoors like a hermit!” cried Paul, as he burst in on his chum like a breath of the crisp winter air.
Harry looked up, and his face was immediately wreathed in a smile. The very presence of such a fine, healthy fellow like Paul was enough in itself to chase away the blues. He sprang to his feet, and grasped the hand that was thrust out toward him, wringing it with boyish ardor. For deep down in his heart he knew full well that Paul was almost as much concerned over the trouble that had of late befallen him, as he could be himself.
“Glad to see you, Paul!” he exclaimed. “Yes, it does look like a great day for a Saturday; and I guess lots of fellows will be glad. The ice must be fine after that little thaw, and hard freeze. I haven’t been down to the river you know, of late. I just seem to feel that I ought to keep away from my friends, and save them from embarrassment.”
If there was a trace of bitterness in Harry’s voice, Paul did not notice it. He did catch the tremor though, that told of a sore heart; and impulsively he again squeezed the hand of his chum.
“That’s just what brought me here right now,” he observed, seriously. “You must get out more, Harry. You know yourself that all this brooding over your affairs isn’t going to do you a bit of good. Things are going to come out all right yet; but it may take some time. Meanwhile it’s foolish of you to shun your best friends, and keep indoors. I’ve come to carry you off to the river with me, d’ye hear?”
Harry sighed, and cast a look of sincere affection on this staunch friend. They had been utter strangers only a few months back; and yet so strong had the ties become that bound them together, that he fancied he cared as much for Paul as he could have done for a brother.