"A tie between Morr, Plum, and Lawrence!"
"And Basswood and Porter tied for second place!"
"Nat Poole wasn't in it, after all."
"My skate got loose," grumbled Nat, as he came up slowly. "If it hadn't been for that I would have won."
"That's an old excuse, Nat!" shouted a boy in the rear of the crowd. "Invent something new! " And a laugh went up, that angered the money-lender's son greatly. He took his defeat bitterly, and lost no time in leaving the ice and disappearing from view.
"A fine race!" declared Mr. Dodsworth. "But I don't know how I am to award the prize."
"Cut it in three parts," suggested Buster.
"Say, that puts me in mind of a story," came from Shadow. "An old Irishman was dying and wanted to make his will. 'How do ye want to lave yer money, Pat?' asked his friend. 'Sure,' says Pat; 'I want to lave it all to me woif an' me four childer, equal loike, so ivery wan gits a quarter!'"
"We might have another race," suggested Mr. Dodsworth. "That is, if you are not too tired—I mean, of course, a race between those who were tied."
"Oh, let us cut sticks for it," suggested Phil.
"That will suit me," said Plum.
