Instantly all eyes were turned in the direction of the schoolhouse where they saw a lad walking with a swinging stride. Apparently about fifteen years of age, he was well built and rather tall. Dark hair, which curled about his cap, and laughing eyes bespoke him as a jolly, handsome fellow, and the ruddy glow brought to his cheeks by the crisp winter air was evidence that he was possessed of health in abundance.
“Why, I know who he is!” asserted another of the group.
“Who?”
“He must be Harry Watson, nephew of the Widow Watson. I remember Mrs. Watson told mother the other day that her nephew, Harry, was coming to Rivertown.”
“Where’s he from?”
“Can’t say.”
“Well, let’s see if he’s any good!” exclaimed a big, hulking fellow, Pud Snooks, who was the bully of the school. “Hey, you, Watson, come over here!” he shouted.
Rivertown High School, a two-story brick building containing some fifteen class rooms and a large assembly room, was situated on a bluff overlooking the Conoque River: and the road leading from it to the village, in addition to being steep, made a sharp turn at the foot of the hill.
The spot was a favorite one with the scholars for coasting, and several of the boys had been in the act of placing a double-runner bob in position at the top of the hill, when they had been apprised of the fact there was a new student in school.
The boys of Rivertown High had a fondness for trying out new students, and Pud’s suggestion met with ready approval.