Turning about, and skating slowly with her toward Broek, he told the good news of his father. Annie was so true a friend that he told her even of their present distress, of how money was needed, and how everything depended upon his obtaining work, and he could find nothing to do in the neighborhood.
All this was not said as a complaint, but just because she was looking at him, and really wished to know. He could not speak of last night's bitter disappointment, for that secret was not wholly his own.
"Good-bye, Annie!" he said at last. "The morning is going fast, and I must haste to Amsterdam and sell these skates. Mother must have money at once. Before nightfall I shall certainly find a job somewhere."
"Sell your new skates, Hans!" cried Annie; "you, the best skater around Broek! Why, the race is coming off in five days!"
"I know it," he answered resolutely. "Good-bye! I shall skate home again on the old wooden ones."
Such a bright glance! So different from Janzoon's ugly grin—and Hans was off like an arrow.
"Hans! come back," she called.
Her voice changed the arrow into a top. Spinning around, he darted, in one long, leaning sweep, toward her.
"Then you really are going to sell your new skates if you can find a customer."
"Of course I am," he replied looking up with a surprised smile.