that Hugh was still bent on studying Nick, with the idea of deciding
whether he did actually have a grain of decency in his make-up, such
as could be used as a foundation on which to build a new structure.

The outlook was far from promising. Indeed, he could not remember
ever seeing Nick look more antagonistic than just then, even though
he tried to appear friendly.

"But then," Hugh was telling himself, "I reckon now Jean Valjean was
about as fierce looking a human wild beast as that good old priest
had ever seen at the time he invited the ex-convict into his snug
house, and horrified his sister by asking him to sit at table with
them, and spend the night there under his hospitable roof."

"You wanted to see me about something, did you, Nick?" he asked the
other.

Nick had dropped down on the chair. His furtive gaze went around
the room as if it aroused his curiosity, for this was really the
first occasion when he had ever graced Hugh's den with his company.

When his eyes alighted on the coveted skates Nick's face took on an
expressive grin. Then he turned toward Hugh, to say, almost
whiningly:

"Sure thing, Hugh. I thought mebbe I'd coax you to let me have the
skates, if I told you I'd managed to get another half dollar by
selling a pair of my pigeons. Here's a dollar and a half; take it,
and gimme the runners, won't you?"