"Perhaps some of your friends could tell you something about them; you always are chumming with such queer fellows--you never can expect much from canaille." Ralph always had a French word ready. As he spoke he looked at Ben in a way that made Ernest cry: "For shame, Ralph!" Ben's eye flashed. He lifted his arm, seized Ralph by the coat collar, shook him with some violence, and then turned on his heel without a word. "That was right," said Ernest, approvingly. "I often wonder how you stand so much from Ralph. He tries to make himself so disagreeable." "He doesn't have to try very hard," answered Ben; "he's disagreeable enough without trying," for Ralph never neglected to show that he thought Ben infinitely beneath him. A curt nod when they happened to meet was almost more irritating than a direct cut. Sorrowfully enough Ernest went homewards. His skating for the season, he knew, was over unless he should recover the skates. Generally, he did not look on the dark side of things, but this day he was disconsolate. In spite of Ben's assurance that the lost skates would be found, he was confident that they were gone forever. Two days later Ben came to him with more excitement in his manner than was his wont. "Would your aunt let you go over to the school with me this afternoon? I think we've spotted them." Ernest rushed for his cap and mittens. "Of course she would! She's out now, but I can go without asking." No explanation was needed to tell him that the "them" meant his missing skates. "You see, I had my suspicions from the first moment," said Ben, "but I didn't dare say anything till I was sure. You know, there's one thing we never agree about, but I won't say anything until you hear for yourself." Ernest was soon following Ben up the broad wooden stairs to the Principal's room. The master himself looked up with some interest as the boys came in. "Yes, yes, I'll send for him at once," he said, after he had briefly welcomed them, "or, no, I'll take you to the room where he is," and before he realized where he was going Ernest found himself following Ben and the Principal into the large schoolroom, where fifty pairs of curious eyes were turned toward them. "Brown, come here," called the master. An undersized boy, freckled, with small eyes near together, shuffled forward. "Did you tell Jim Grey that you had found a pair of skates the day before yesterday?--answer--'yes' or 'no.'" Not a word came from the boy, who held his head down sulkily. "Answer--quickly--or home you go at once. Did you or did you not find a pair of skates?" "No, I didn't," at last came from the reluctant lips. "That's enough, sir!" thundered the Principal. "Now, Bruce, tell your story." Then Ben, leaving the room for a moment, came back, accompanied by a man who carried a package under his arm.