e fall, there had been a wonderfully successful
athletic tournament, inaugurated to celebrate the enclosing of the
grounds outside Scranton with a high board-fence, and the building of
a splendid grandstand, as well as rooms where the athletic
participants in sports might dress in comfort.

With the coming of winter the big field thus enclosed had been
properly flooded, so that it might afford a vast amount of healthy
recreation to all Scranton boys and girls who loved to skate.

Hitherto they had been compelled to trudge all the way out to
Hobson's mill-pond, and back, which was a long enough journey to keep
many from ever thinking of indulging in what is, perhaps, the most
cherished winter sport among youthful Americans.

The two friends had been asked around by the Juggins boy to inspect a
wonderful assortment of treasure trove that an old and peculiar
uncle, with a fad for collecting curios of every description, and who
was at present out in India, had sent to his young nephew and
namesake.

These consisted of scores of most interesting objects, besides
several thousand rare postage stamps. Taken in all it was the
greatest collection of stamps any of them had ever heard of. And the
other things proved of such absorbing interest that Hugh and Thad had
lingered until the afternoon was done, with supper not so far away
but that they must hurry home.

Thad, apparently, had something on his mind which he wished to get
rid of, judging from the way in which he several times looked queerly
at his chum. Finally, as if determined to speak up, he started, half
apologetically:

"Hugh, excuse me if I'm butting in where I have no business," he
said; "but when I saw you talking so long with that town bully, Nick
Lang, this afternoon, after we got out of school, I didn't know what
to think. Was he threatening you about anything, Hugh? After that
fine dressing-down you gave Nick last summer, when he forced you to
fight him while we were out at that barn dance, I notice he keeps
fairly mum when you're around."

Hugh chuckled, as though the recollection might not be wholly
displeasing; though, truth to tell, that was the only fight he had
been in since coming to Scranton. Even it would not have taken place
only that he could not stand by and see the big bully thrash most
cruelly a weaker boy than himself.

"Oh! no, you're away off in your guess, Thad," he replied
immediately. "Fact is, instead of threats, Nick was as