“Speak for yourself!” said Rupert, haughtily.
“No, I speak for you, too.”
“Try it! A race! a race!” exclaimed the boys in chorus.
“I will race with Harry,” said Rupert, hastily.
“No; you can beat me; I admit that in advance. Race with Tom.”
Tom said nothing. By this time his skates were on, and he was quite ready to enter upon a trial of speed with Rupert, or any boy on the pond; but he did not care to betray any anxiety on the subject.
Rupert was rather conceited on the subject of his skating. With the exception of Tom Thatcher, he was probably the best skater in the village—that is, among the boys—and felt pretty confident that he could beat Tom himself. His reluctance was due only to his not liking to place himself on an equality with the boy who pegged shoes for his father at fifty cents per day. The clamor of the boys, however, and the anticipation of a triumph over his rival overruled his objections, and he said:
“I’ll try a race across the pond, if you insist upon it.”
“What do you say, Tom?” asked Harry.
“I am ready,” said Tom, promptly. “Just wait a minute till I tighten my skates.”