“Nor I,” “nor I,” said they all, excepting Millie Ray. Sweet Millie Ray! “Poor Ben,” she said, “how lonely he’ll be. Don’t you think we ought to be good to him, Frank,” turning to Frankie, who was just entering the school-room. “Don’t you think we ought to be good to Ben Field?”
“Of course, Millie,” said Frankie. “Why? Who isn’t?”
“Oh, nobody, only some of us are sorry he’s coming to school,” Millie answered. “Ain’t you sorry?”
Frankie hesitated a moment, then said frankly, “No, Millie, I’m not sorry when I think about it as I ought to. Ben needs to come as much as any of us. I guess he’ll be pleasant enough if we are good to him.”
Frankie’s influence gave Ben a better reception from the girls than he would otherwise have met with, and, for a time, he was quite a pleasant playmate. But after a few weeks, when the novelty had worn off, his old spirit of mischief manifested itself. He delighted in teasing the younger boys and little girls.
One day, after the snow came, the boys had a race in coasting, to see which of their sleds was the swiftest. They started at the very top of a long hill. There was Willie Prime on his Reindeer, Joe West on his Express, Ben Field on his Lightning, David Dwight on his Victor, and Frankie on his Light.
They are ready to start. Frankie counts, “one—two—three—four”—and away go Reindeer, Express, Lightning, Victor, and Light. Willie steers too much toward the right, and Reindeer plunges head-foremost into a drift; Joe looks around to see Willie, Express runs off from the track, and both are landed in a ditch on the left. The race is now for Lightning, Victor, and Light; Light being a little in advance, Lightning next, then Victor. Ben is very anxious to win the race. By a push he may turn Light from the track, and thus gain upon Frankie. He steers his sled to the right, and comes down upon Light so suddenly that Frankie is thrown off into the snow, and Victor and Lightning reach the foot of the hill nearly at the same time.
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Ben Field. That was a mean trick. I’d play fair if I didn’t beat.” All this Frankie said, as he brushed the snow from his clothes, and his flashing eyes looked every word of it.
“Guess I ain’t ashamed to beat,” Ben said, sullenly.
“But it wasn’t fair,” said the girls, all in a breath. “You know Frank was ahead till you steered your sled right into his.”