“I used to skate once, Breen; I wonder now if I’ve forgotten how? I believe I’d like to try it, anyway. Couldn’t you add a faculty race, Breen? I’d enter—that is—” He paused doubtfully. “That is, you know, if I can find another member of the faculty to race with. And I think I can; yes, I’m certain of it,” he added smilingly. “Add the faculty race, Breen, and I’ll promise you two contestants at least.”
“We’ll do it, sir,” answered Paddy eagerly.
“Very well; come to the office to-morrow and I’ll give you my fee.” And the principal went off smiling broadly, and Paddy flew to report the wonderful news to Wallace and the other members of the committee. The next day Professor Wheeler paid his entrance fee, and a second fee, which he explained was for another member of the faculty who had consented to race.
“And who is he, sir?” asked Paddy.
“Ah! that is a secret at present, Breen. But there is his fee, and you may enter him as X——, an unknown quantity. And he’ll be on hand next Wednesday. By the way, what distance is this faculty race to be?”
“We thought a half mile would suit,” answered Paddy.
“A half mile? Tut, tut, my boy, we’re not so old and disabled as that. Change it to a mile, Breen, if you please.”
There was a deal of speculation throughout the school as to the identity of the second faculty member. It might be Tomkins, who was big and strong enough to win a race on skates; or it might be Beck—most of the boys thought it was—for he could skate well and frequently did. Or—well, it might be any one of the thirteen instructors, barring “Turkey,” of course, who was too old to skate and might blow to pieces in a stiff breeze. The day of the racing carnival was awaited impatiently.
Wayne meanwhile practiced almost every day on the lake or the river, preferring the former because less frequented. Often Dave and Don accompanied him, and the three took turns at holding Don’s stop-watch while the others raced together over the mile or half-mile course. The afternoon preceding the carnival was almost dark when the boys took off their skates at the river’s edge and started up the steep bank below the campus and a long half mile from the Academy. They were going to cut across the fields to the village and leave their skates to be reground for the morrow’s contests. But halfway up the ascent Dave paused and drew the others’ attention to a figure across the river. Wayne and Don stopped and followed the direction of Dave’s arm. Under the shadow of a clump of trees across the bare sweep of purple ice they could just make out the form of a person skating slowly, and, as it appeared, stealthily up the river, holding as close as possible to the gloom afforded by the fringe of bushes.
“Who is it, I wonder?” said Don.