Harry suspected that this was the case, but was too delicate to refer to it, and said nothing further.
From a nail in the closet Tom took down a pair of old wooden-framed skates, on which, however, he could beat many who were provided with club-skates of the most approved styles.
His friend Harry had a new pair of club-skates, and so had Rupert Simpson.
A walk of a quarter of a mile brought the boys to Round Pond, which was situated near the center of the village. It was small, not more than three-quarters of a mile in circumference; but it was frozen clear as glass, and looked tempting to the young skaters as they descended the bank, and sat down by the margin to put on their skates.
Many boys and a few girls were already on the ice. When Tom and Harry arrived some of them came to greet the new-comers. It was evident that both were general favorites.
Among the boys who came up was Rupert Simpson.
“What made you so late, Harry?” he asked, impatiently.
“I called for Tom, and he had some wood to saw and split before he could come.”
“I suppose you helped him,” suggested Rupert, with a sneer.
“I did.”