“That so? I thought I’d seen you around somewhere.” He had taken one of the skating boots and, despite Joe’s protest, was replacing the broken lace with the new one. “I know now; I saw you at high school, didn’t I?” “I guess so. I started there Tuesday. I――I’ve been living in Akron.” “Akron’s a nice town. You’ll like Amesville, though, when you get acquainted. Have you met many fellows at school yet?” “N-no, I haven’t. That is, some have spoken to me, but I don’t really know anyone yet.” “You must, then. Start in by knowing me. My name’s Pollock.” He smiled winningly and reached a hand across. Joe smiled back and clasped it. “Thanks. Mine is Faulkner.” “Sam!” called Pollock. The boy at the front of the store, who had been gravely looking out into the street, turned inquiringly. He didn’t resemble the other in build or features, but there was, nevertheless, a similarity between them that Joe couldn’t explain. He wasn’t handsome, but he had a nice pair of gray eyes and a generously wide mouth that, although no smile curved it, somehow seemed to proclaim good nature and kindliness. In build he was heavier than his friend, more sturdy, with a resolute way of planting his feet that seemed to defy anything short of an explosion of dynamite to move him until he was ready to move. He approached in response to Pollock’s hail. “Sam, I want you to know Mr. Faulkner,” said Pollock. “Faulkner, this is Sam Craig. Sam’s our baseball captain and a gentleman of much wisdom.” The two shook hands, Joe a trifle embarrassedly, Sam Craig with a slight lifting of one corner of his serious mouth and an accompanying lighting of the gray eyes. “How are you, Faulkner? I’ve seen you around school, I think. Glad to meet you.” The clasp was a very hearty one, almost painfully hearty, and Joe worked his fingers afterwards to see that they were still whole. “Faulkner,” continued Pollock, completing the lacing of the boot, “is a stranger in our midst, Sam. He’s just come from Akron. He says he hasn’t got acquainted much yet. What’ll we do about it? Our fair city has a world-wide reputation for hospitality, you know, and it mustn’t be marred.” “I’ve only been here since last Monday,” said Joe. “I guess a fellow can’t expect to make many acquaintances in that time.” “Going skating?” asked Sam. “Yes. He says the pond is better than the river.” “It is. I was there yesterday; the river, I mean. It isn’t safe more than fifty feet from shore. Proctor’s Pond is the best place just now. I’m going down there myself. If you’d like to come along I’ll show you the way.” “Thanks, yes, I’d be glad to.” “Do you play hockey?” asked Pollock. “No. I’ve never tried it.” “The team’s practising there this morning and I thought that if you played you’d better get Sam to work you in with the scrubs for a try-out.” “Thanks, but I don’t. I’m not a very good skater, either.”