So saying, Mevrouw van Holp, looking kindly upon the two boys, arose and left the room with the same dignity with which she had entered.
Peter, only half convinced, muttered something about "the sin of allowing sorrow to turn all one's honey into gall," as he conducted his visitor to the narrow side-door. Before they parted, he advised Hans to keep himself in good skating order, "for," he added, "now that your father is all right, you will be in fine spirits for the race. That will be the prettiest skating show ever seen in this part of the world. Everybody is talking of it; you are to try for the prize, remember."
"I shall not be in the race, mynheer," said Hans, looking down.
"Not be in the race! Why not indeed?" and immediately Peter's thoughts swept on a full tide of suspicion toward Carl Schummel.
"Because I cannot, mynheer," answered Hans, as he bent to slip his feet into his big shoes.
Something in the boy's manner warned Peter that it would be no kindness to press the matter further. He bade Hans "good-bye," and stood thoughtfully watching him as he walked away.
In a minute Peter called out:
"Hans Brinker!"
"I'll take back all I said about Dr. Boekman."