ENCOURAGING NICK
It was well on toward noon when Hugh, tired of skating for one day,
started homeward. For a wonder he walked by himself, something Hugh
seldom had happen; for if his chum Thad Stevens was not at his side,
some other fellow, possibly several, would be sure to hurry so as to
catch up with him.
But Thad had been compelled to go home an hour before on some
account, his folks having certain plans that forced him to accompany
them immediately after lunch.
Hugh was feeling a bit tired, but in good spirits, nevertheless,
because of the clever victory his team had won, in which he had borne
his part consistently. It always gives a boy a warm sensation around
the region of his heart to realize that he has not failed those who
put their faith in his ability. How many can look back with a
feeling of pride to that "great day" when it was their home-run
drive, or whistling three-bagger that pulled the home team out of a
slump, and started a batting-bee that, eventually, won the game?
Those days are marked with a red letter in the pages of memory.
When part way to town, for the athletic grounds lay outside the
limits of Scranton, though not far away, Hugh suddenly discovered a
familiar figure just ahead of him, which, somehow, he had not noticed
up to then. It was Nick Lang. He had his skates dangling over his
shoulder by a strap, and Hugh could actually catch his whistle as he
strode along.
Somehow this told him Nick was feeling in higher spirits than had
lately been the case. Perhaps he was beginning to feel a new
confidence in himself, Hugh suspected. In the beginning Nick must
have seriously doubted his ability to, as some of the boys would have
called it, "come across, and deliver the goods," when he set out to
reform his ways.
He had now been keeping up the pace for more than a week. It was
gradually growing easier, too, the further he went along the
unfamiliar road. People did not sneer quite so much at him as in the
beginning. Some even ventured to give him a half-friendly nod when
they chanced to meet.
And so for the first time perhaps since that day when he made up his
mind, Nick was unconsciously whistling as he walked along, his
thoughts busy with matters connected with his set purpose.
Obeying an impulse Hugh quickened his pace.
"Oh, Nick! Hold on a minute, will you?" he called out.
On turning his head quickly and seeing who it was, Nick stopped short
in his tracks. He was looking a little confused, yet not displeased,
when Hugh reached him.
Hugh thrust out his hand, and, of course, Nick had to accept it,
though he did look a little awkward, because this was a new
experience with him. Still, he gave Hugh's digits a fierce squeeze
that might be taken as an index to his feelings toward his one-time
hated enemy.
"I've been wanting to have a little chat with you for some time,
Nick," the other hastened to say; "but somehow every chance I got
something would interfere, and the best I could do was to wave my
hand, or give you a nod. Now this morning, just as I started to
skate through the crowd to say something important to you, the coach
called me back and said they were ready to start play. Do you know
what it was I meant to ask of you this morning, Nick?"
Nick looked puzzled and curious also.
"I might guess it in a week, Hugh," he said, grinning; "but not right
away. You see, I ain't used to having _anybody_ ask things of me.
It's generally been a scowl, and a suspicious look, as if they
thought I mean to play a trick on 'em if they so much as turned their
heads on me. But then that's just what I used to do often enough; so
I oughtn't to complain. What did you want with me, Hugh?"
"I was going to ask you to stand by during the entire game, because,
in case one of my players was hurt so badly that he'd have to be
dropped out, rather than cut both sides down to six, I meant to put
you in as substitute, no matter what position had to be filled."
Nick caught his breath. His face flushed, and a glow appeared in his
eyes. That expression of confidence shown in Hugh's words filled his
aching heart with new encouragement. Hugh could see the muscles of
his cheeks working, as though he found it difficult to control his
emotions. Then Nick spoke.
"That was mighty kind in you, Hugh, to think of me," he said, with
just a suspicious quiver to his voice. "I'd sure liked to have
played in that game; but do you think it'd have been wise to have
picked _me_ for a substitute when there were plenty of other fellows
on the ice competent to take the place?"
"Not one able to fill your shoes, Nick, and they know it," asserted
Hugh stoutly.
"But then if you'd done that there'd sure have been a howl raised
later on by lots of folks who still have it in for me because of the
past," urged Nick, though it could be easily seen that he felt
particularly pleased by what the captain of the Scranton High Seven
had just told him.
"Let them howl," Hugh went on to say. "There never yet was a fellow
who nobly redeemed his past but what a bunch of wolves set up a howl
on his heels. Don't you pay any attention to those fellows, Nick.
Stick to your game through thick and thin. Every day you go on as
you have been doing you win fresh friends. Even Mr. Leonard, who
used to fairly detest you, is now singing your praises; and Dr.
Carmack told me he was pinning his faith on you. He's a long-headed
man, Nick, a very far-seeing man, who knows boys and is not easily
deceived. He believes in you; so do I, and a lot of other fellows.
You're going to make good, and I know it."
"Well, I'm going to keep on fighting, that's all I can say, Hugh,"
replied Nick grimly. "I'll get there, or bust the biler trying. But
sometimes I have an awful time with myself, just because I can't
wholly believe folks will respect a chap who's done as many mean
things as I have in the past."
"You must put that out of your mind, Nick," urged the other. "Why,
don't you think I'd have ten times as much respect for the fellow
who's been down, and climbs up again through his own will-power, than
for the one who's always been shielded from temptation, and never
really proved what he had in him? Nine-tenths of the fellows who
walk along so straight are kept on that road because they happen to
have wise parents to watch over them; and they were never given an
overpowering appetite to do wrong things."
Nick drew a long breath. His eyes glistened again, and perhaps with
something besides the animation that Hugh's kind and encouraging
words kindled within his soul.
"You see," he went on to say, presently, when he could control his
voice, "I always did like to run smack up against a hard proposition.
It's in my nature to want a good fight, and I reckon I've got it this
time. But I'm a whole lot stubborn, too, Hugh, as likely you've
learned; and I don't give up easy. Since I started to reform I'm
a-going to get there if it takes a leg. Anyhow, it's a heap sight
pleasanter doing it _outside_ the Reform School than inside, like
some fellows I used to train with are a-going to do, it seems."
All this kind of talk pleased Hugh immensely. He felt more than ever
satisfied with the magnificent result of that clever little scheme of
his. Reading Hugo's masterpiece had brought it about, too, and he
would always have occasion to remember this when handling that volume
recording the wonderful achievements of the one-time ignorant convict
and human beast named Jean Valjean.
Nick just then saw several other boys hurrying to overtake Hugh. He
immediately evinced a desire to start off on a tangent, and head
elsewhere.
"I've got an errand over in town, Hugh, so I'll break away," he said
hurriedly, though Hugh could easily guess the real reason for his
departure. "But I want to tell you I appreciate your kindness, and
if in the next hockey match there's need of a substitute, and you see
fit to put _me_ in, why, I'll work my fingers to the bone to make
good, sure I will."
And Hugh believed it.