“The prize is yours now,” whispered Tom.

“It was before,” answered Randolph, conceitedly.

Poor Luke looked disappointed.  He knew that he had at least an even chance of winning, and he wanted the watch.  Several of his friends of his own age had watches, either silver or Waterbury, and this seemed, in his circumstances, the only chance of securing one.  Now he was apparently barred out.

“It’s a pity you shouldn’t skate, Luke,” said Mr. Hooper, in a tone of sympathy.  “You are one of the best skaters, and had an excellent chance of winning the prize.  Is there any boy willing to lend Luke his skates?”

“I will,” said Frank Acken.

“My dear boy,” said the teacher, “you forget that your feet are several sizes smaller than Luke’s.”

“I didn’t think of that,” replied Frank, who was only twelve years old.

“You may use my skates, Luke,” said Linton Tomkins.  “I think they will fit you.”

Linton was only thirteen, but he was unusually large for his age.

“You are very kind, Linton,” said Luke, “but that will keep you out of the race.”

“I stand no chance of winning,” said Linton, “and I will do my skating afterward.”

“I don’t think that fair,” said Randolph, with a frown.  “Each boy ought to use his own skates.”

“There is nothing unfair about it,” said the teacher, “except that Luke is placed at disadvantage in using a pair of skates he is unaccustomed to.”

Randolph did not dare gainsay the teacher, but he looked sullen.

“Mr. Hooper is always favoring that beggar!” he said in a low voice, to Tom Harper.

“Of course he is!” chimed in the toady.

“You are very kind, Linny,” said Luke, regarding his friend affectionately.  “I won’t soon forget it.”

“Oh, it’s all right, Luke,” said Linton.  “Now go in and win!”

CHAPTER II

TOM HARPER’S ACCIDENT

Tom Harper and Sam Noble were not wholly disinterested in their championship of Randolph.  They were very ordinary skaters, and stood no chance of winning the match themselves.  They wished Randolph to win, for each hoped, as he had a silver watch himself already, he might give the Waterbury to his faithful friend and follower.  Nothing in Randolph’s character granted such a hope, for he was by no means generous or open-handed, but each thought that he might open his heart on this occasion.  Indeed, Tom ventured to hint as much.

“I suppose, Randolph,” he said, “if you win the watch you will give it to me?”

“Why should I?” asked Randolph, surveying Tom with a cold glance.

“You’ve got a nice silver watch yourself, you know.”

“I might like to have two watches.”

“You’ll have the ten dollars your father promised you.”

“What if I have?  What claim have you on me?”