r their holiday. Her motherly Irish soul warmed at once to
Sparrer, and she fussed over his outfit and comfort in a way that was
new to the youngster, for his own mother, working from daylight to dark
and often late into the night, had had little time for mothering. The
boys had brought some gifts for the children, and these their mother hid
against the arrival of good St. Nick. A part of Sparrer's outfit as a
Christmas gift from his comrades had been a warm mackinaw, and to this
Mrs. Malone insisted on adding a pair of thick woolen stockings of her
own knitting. Pat's contribution was a pair of snow-shoes, which he
brought out at the last moment as they were starting for the train, and
as he took them a lump rose in the younger lad's throat and cut off
speech. But the shine in his eyes expressed more than his tongue could
have. Such kindness was a new experience in his life, and he hardly knew
how to meet it.

The short run by train to Lower Chain was quickly made, and the boys
piled out, eager to be on their way. Pat had provided a stout toboggan
which showed the effects of long use, and on this he deftly loaded their
duffle and supplies, lashing them securely into place. Sparrer watched
him with troubled face. Ever since the mention of skates the day before
he had worried over that twelve mile trip down the lake. He knew that
Upton and Harrison had brought skates, but he had none, and if he had
had he couldn't have used them. He had never been on a pair in his life.
Skating is not an accomplishment of the lower East Side of New York.

So Sparrer had worried. If it had been merely a matter of a twelve mile
hike he would have been on edge to show the others that he could keep
up, but he knew that with the others on skates for him to try to keep up
was as absurd as for a truck to try to keep pace with a racing car, and
it hurt his pride to feel that he would be a drag on the others. Hal and
Walter already had their skates on and were cutting circles, figure
eights and grape-vine twists on the smooth ice. With the fastening of
the last lash Pat put on his own skates.

"Now, me bantam, get up on that load," he ordered.

Sparrer demurred, but the young giant picked him up bodily and plumped
him down on a roll of blankets, wrapped him up in a blanket left out for
the purpose, ordered him to sit still, with dire threats of what would
happen to him if he did not, called to the others to get on to their
jobs, and they were