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However, when he had got his breath again he was ready for more experiments and tried the inner edge-roll with fair success, and, becoming more ambitious, essayed a figure eight. But that didn’t go very smoothly, and since by that time he had neighbours about him he stopped his capers. One of the neighbours skated toward him, but Joe paid no heed to him until he swung around and came to a stop a few feet away.

“Do it slower and you’ll get it all right,” observed the boy pleasantly. Joe saw then that he was Strobe. He had pulled a faded blue sweater on and still carried his stick. He was a merry-faced fellow, with good features, bright blue eyes and a good deal of colour in his cheeks. He was evidently about sixteen and rather tall for that age. He smiled in friendly fashion as Joe glanced up and stopped so awkwardly that he almost fell into Strobe’s arms.

“It isn’t hard,” the latter continued. “Like this. See?” He described a circle on the outer edge, changed to the inner and completed the figure slowly and gracefully.