plainest kind of steel, having cost but sixty-five cents, and Nat Poole stuck up his nose at them.
"My! look at the gunboats," he observed, to Gus Plum, but loud enough for Dave to hear. "Made of cast-off railroad iron, I guess."
"Let's take up a collection for a new pair," answered the bully of Oak Hall.
"If Dave is satisfied with his skates you ought to be," came sharply from Ben.
"Who is talking to you?" demanded Plum, roughly.
"I'm talking to you, Gus Plum."
"Oh, don't mind him, Ben," interposed Dave. "His talk isn't worth listening to. His skates may have cost more money than mine, but, just the same, I don't think he can skate any faster on them than I can on this old pair."
"Do you want to prove that?" cried Gus Plum, eagerly. He was really a good skater.
"Yes."
"A race! A race!" was the cry.
"I'll race you, too," put in Nat Poole.
"All right, I'd just as lief beat two as one," answered Dave, and said it so dryly that the crowd began to laugh.
The details of the race were quickly arranged. Up the river about half a mile was a small island. The three racers were to start from the boathouse
