CHAPTER XVII
THE HOCKEY CHAMPIONSHIP IS DECIDED
Roy had passed his examinations without flunking in a thing, and whilethat may not sound like much of an achievement to you who doubtless areaccustomed to winning all sorts of honors, it pleased him hugely. Theyhad proved pretty stiff, those exams, and he had trembled in his shoesconsiderably when the day for the announcement of results had come. Butit was all right. To be sure, 68 in English wasn't anything to bragabout, but he was happier over that than the 92 in Latin, which was hishighest mark.
Jack received one of the six scholarships, which carried with it besidethe honor sufficient money to cancel the year's tuition fee. Chub, too,was happy. He was happy because he had failed only in Mathematics wherehe had feared to fail all along the line.
I don't know whether Roy's mother was pleased; possibly not; possiblyshe had not entirely relinquished her hopes of a scholarship for him.But Roy's father, if his letter was to be believed, was in the seventhheaven of bliss. Roy scowled a good deal over that letter, for itsounded a bit sarcastic here and there! Mentally he resolved to do awhole lot better and get higher marks in June.
"I just wish Dad had that exam to buck against," he muttered. "I'll bethe'd make a mighty mean showing! Maybe then he wouldn't write suchletters!"
The letter, though, had accomplished just what Mr. Porter had intendedit should; it had made Roy dissatisfied with his showing and resolved todo better the next time. And, in case I fail to record the fact in itsproper place, be it known here and now that he did do better,considerably better, so well, in fact, that his mother's waning hopes ofscholarship honors flourished anew.
Those examinations left Horace Burlen in a peck of trouble. He hadfailed in two studies and was consequently ineligible for crew workuntil he had made them up. And as Horace was Crew captain and NumberThree in the boat, the whole school became interested in hispredicament. To his honor be it said, however, that he buckled down atonce to make them up, and Mr. Buckman, who was the rowing coach andadviser, helped him to what extent the rules allowed. Crew practicebegan usually in the first week of March, leaving less than a month forHorace to square himself in the two studies. Those who didn't like himsmiled wickedly and "guessed there'd be a new captain chosen nextmonth." Horace's friends and adherents, consisting nowadays of about athird of the students, declared that he wouldn't have any trouble andadvised the scoffers to "just watch him!"
Meanwhile there was the ice hockey supremacy to be determined. FerryHill had scored another victory, this time over the Whittier CollegiateInstitute team, twelve goals to nine, and had practised diligently andenthusiastically every possible moment. And so when, on a bright, coldSaturday afternoon, Hammond crossed the river for the third and decidingcontest, Ferry Hill was in high feather and was looking for a victory.
Pride goeth before a fall.
Ferry Hill's team was made up as in the first game of the series savethat Gallup was at point in place of Bacon, who had fallen back to thesecond team. The ice was hard and smooth, the barriers were lined withspectators, the cheers of Hammond and Ferry Hill arose alternately intothe still, frosty air. Harry watched breathlessly with Spot in her armsand Mr. Cobb tossed a puck into the center of the rink and skated back.
"Ready, Hammond?"
"Ready, Ferry Hill?"
Then the whistle piped merrily, Warren secured the puck and passed itback to Kirby and the game was on. Skates rang against the ice as thebrown-clad forwards spread out across the rink and raced for theopponent's goal. Kirby passed to Roy, Roy passed across to Warren,Warren overskated, Rogers doubled back and rescued the disk, passing itacross to Roy again, Hammond's right-end charged, Roy slipped past himagainst the barrier and got the puck once more, eluded the cover-pointand passed to Warren, Warren worked the puck to within ten feet of thenet and, with half the team hitting and hacking at his stick, shot thefirst goal. Ferry Hill, 1; Hammond, 0.
But Hammond broke up the attack very nicely the next time, secured thepuck and charged down the rink like a troop of cavalry. Gallup wasdecoyed to the left, Hadden was caught napping and the whistle blew.Ferry Hill, 1; Hammond, 1. Hadden remorsefully kicked the snowy disk ofrubber out from the net and smote it wrathfully with his stick.
"My fault, Roy," he said.
"That's all right," answered the captain. "Gallup, you were out of placethat time. Remember that you take the puck and not the man. All togethernow, fellows, get after them!"
Hammond secured the puck at the face and for several minutes the battleraged hotly, now here, now there. Hadden stopped two tries neatly, Chubstole the disk from a Hammond forward and took it down the rink, skatinglike a cyclone--if cyclones may be said to skate--only to miss his tryat goal by a bare two inches. Twice play was stopped for off-side workand once Warren was cautioned by Mr. Cobb against roughness. Then, whenthe Hammond Point had lifted the puck far down the rink, Gallup was slowin returning it and the speedy Schonberg was down on him like a flash,had stolen the puck from under his nose and, charging past Chub, who hadcome to the rescue, had shot it between Hadden's feet for the thirdgoal.
After that Fortune favored Hammond while the half lasted. Her playersworked like one man instead of seven and when the whistle blew the scorelooked frightfully one-sided; Hammond, 5; Ferry Hill, 1.
"I guess they're too much for us," panted Jack as he struggled into hissweater. Roy nodded soberly.
"I never saw better team-work," he muttered. "Well, it's all in alifetime."
"Well, look at the experience they've had," said Kirby. "I'll bet thatnext year we'll--"
Roy turned on him sharply.
"That'll do for you," he answered. "Never mind next year, think of thenext half. Time enough for next year when we're beaten. I dare say theywill beat us, but if you think, Kirby, that I'm going to be satisfiedwith any such score as they've piled up on us now you're mightilymistaken. What we want to do is to get the jump on those chaps andeverlastingly push them around the shop!"
Mr. Cobb, who had come up in time to hear the remark, smiled approval.
"That's right," he said. "You forwards must get together better and youmust take chances. There's not much use waiting to get in front of theirgoal before shooting because they've got a fine defense and a dandypoint. Force the playing, shoot whenever there's the ghost of a chanceand check harder. You must be careful about the way you treat thosefellows along the boards, Warren; I wouldn't have been far wrong if I'dlaid you off for a couple of minutes that time."
"I guess you didn't see what he was doing to me," said Warren.
"No, I didn't. But you know mighty well that we don't stand for slugginghere, no matter what the other chap does."
"That's all right," muttered Warren, "but if any chap thinks he canslash my shins all the time and not get hurt he's a good bit mistaken."
"Well, don't you try it on when I'm coaching or refereeing," warned Mr.Cobb coldly. "If you do--look out!"
Warren made no reply.
The substitutes and members of the second team had taken possession ofthe rink and Bacon was guarding goal against the assaults of half adozen swooping, charging players. At the far end Hammond was perchedalong the barrier, laughing and fooling, already practically certain ofvictory. Roy, watching, set his jaws together and resolved that ifHammond added to her present score it would be only after the hardestplaying she had ever done!
"You're not going to let them win, are you, Roy?"
Roy turned to find Harry beside him with Spot wriggling and twisting inher arms. Roy petted him and had his cheek licked before he replied.Then,
"I'm afraid we can't keep them from beating us, Harry," he answered,"but we're going to make a lot better showing in this half than we didin the last."
"Does your wrist hurt?" asked Harry, glancing solicitously at the silkbandage about it. Roy shook his head.
"No, but it isn't right strong yet and Mr. Cobb thought I'd better wearthis rather than run any danger of putting it out of place again. How'sMethusel
ah?"
"Fine and dandy," answered Harry cheerfully. "You must come and see him;I think he gets rather dull sometimes. I've got some more white mice.That makes sixteen. I wish I knew what to do with them. Dad says I'llhave to kill them, but I just couldn't do it."
"Why not turn them loose?" asked Roy.
Harry giggled.
"I tried that and some of them came back and went up to John's room andhe found one in his boot in the morning. He was terribly mad about it.John's very short tempered, you know."
"He must be," laughed Roy.
"Yes. And then yesterday he found two in the grain-chest and told Dad. Idon't think it was nice of him to tell, do you? And Dad says I'll haveto kill them."
"I tell you what," said Roy. "You keep them until warm weather andwe'll take them off somewhere and let them loose. I don't believe they'dever get back again."
"But they might die!"
"I don't believe so. Anyway, they'd have a fighting chance, and if youkill them they won't have. See?"
"John said I ought to buy an owl," said Harry disgustedly, "and feedthem to him. As though I would!"
"John's a brute," said Roy. "How about the squabs?"
"Oh, they're coming fast! There are twelve already. I--I wish theywouldn't hatch. I hate to have them killed."
"Mighty fine eating, squabs," said Roy teasingly. Harry shot anindignant glance at him.
"Any person who'd eat a squab," she cried, "deserves to be--to be--"
But Roy didn't learn what such a person deserved, for at that moment Mr.Cobb summoned the teams out again. Roy peeled off his crimson sweater,looked to his skate straps and called to Jack. When the latter hadskated up Roy talked to him earnestly for a moment.
"All ready, Porter?" cried Warren.
"About six or eight feet from the corner of the goal," finished Roy."And bang it in without waiting for anything. Understand?"
Jack nodded and the two skated to their places. Warren and the opposingleft-center laid their sticks on either side of the puck and thewhistle sounded. There was an instant of shoving and pushing and thenthe puck shot back to the Hammond side. Over to the boards it went, theHammond forwards strung out and dug their skates into the ice and thepuck came down to the Ferry Hill goal, flying back and forth from oneforward to another like a shuttle. Chub checked the Hammond right-centerand the two went to the ice together, a confused mass of legs and armsand sticks. Gallup slashed wildly at Schonberg's stick, Hadden crouchedbetween the iron posts and the puck went flying over his shoulder intothe snow outside. The whistle piped and the disk was dug out of itsrefuge and returned to the ice just in front of the Ferry Hill goal.Chub and Gallup fell back to protect Hadden, and Roy and Schonberg facedoff. There was a moment of wild hacking of stick against stick, then thepuck slid through Roy's skates, and Schonberg, reaching around him, madea quick slash that sent it rolling into the corner of the goal. Hammond,6; Ferry Hill, 1. Hadden vented his disgust by smashing his stick andhad to have a new one. Back to the center of the ice went the puck,while the Hammond supporters cheered and laughed.
Again Hammond get possession of the disk at the face and again thecherry jerseys sped down the rink. Then _smash_! went Roy into Schonbergand the puck was his and he was dribbling it along the boards. A Hammondforward charged him, but Roy passed the puck inside, passed outsidehimself and recovered it beyond. From the other side of the rink cameJack's voice.
"All right, Roy!"
Past cover-point went Roy, and then, just as point flew out toward him,he shot the puck at an angle against the boards just back of goal. Hewent down the next moment before the savage bodychecking of point, buthe didn't mind, for the puck, carroming against the barrier, had shotout at the other side of goal where Jack was awaiting it and was nowreposing coyly in the farthermost corner of the netting. Ferry Hill wentwild with joy. Six to two sounded far more encouraging than had six toone. Hockey sticks waved in air as the players skated back to theirplaces.
"That's the stuff, fellows!" called Roy. "Good shot, Jack! Now let'shave another one!"
But there were no more goals for a while, although the game went fastand furious. Gallup received a cut over the left eye that sent him outof the game and Bacon took his place. Then the Hammond left-center wasput off for two minutes for tripping and Ferry Hill thought she hadfound her chance to score again. But Hammond's remaining six played sowell that Ferry Hill was held off until the penalized player returned tothe game. Along the boards the watchers were kicking their shoes tobring warmth to their feet. The sun had dropped behind the wooded hillsacross the river and the rink was in shadow.
Presently Ferry Hill had the puck in the middle of the ice and herforwards flew to their places. Down the rink they charged, the diskflying from Kirby to Warren, from Warren to Jack Rogers and ultimatelyfrom the latter's stick past goal's knees into the net. Hammond, 6;Ferry Hill, 3.
There were eight minutes more to play. Ferry Hill seemed to have foundher pace at last; perhaps the last two goals had encouraged her. At allevents she played as she had never played all season. Roy was a streakof greased lightning, Jack was a tornado, Warren and Kirby shot about asthough they had wings on their shoes instead of mere steel runners, Chubwas a bull-dog and a fierce and speedy one, Bacon seemed to have eyes inthe back of his head and Hadden was invulnerable. Ferry Hill was forcingthe playing now and for minutes at a time she appeared to have thingsall her own way. Only the Hammond goal-tend saved the day for the Cherryand Black. Time and again he was the only defense left and time andagain he turned seeming success into failure for the swooping enemy.Then came another carrom back of goal, again Jack was on the spot andonce more the Ferry Hill sticks danced in air. Hammond, 6; Ferry Hill,4!
Hammond was beginning to show herself tuckered. Her right-center wasplainly played out and gave his place to a new man. Even Schonbergexhibited signs of failing strength and no longer played with the dashand brilliancy with which he had begun the contest. And as the enemyweakened Ferry Hill strengthened. Schonberg went to the ice and hisstick flew out of his hand while Roy flew on with the puck slippingalong in front of him. Kirby sent cover-point out of the play, the diskslid along the snowy ice to Warren and he lifted it at goal. Goal-tenderstopped it with his knee, slashed it aside and crouched at the corner ofthe net. Roy turned on his heel, found the puck as it flew by and rushedback to goal. The whole Hammond team was about him and sticks banged andwhizzed. It was a bedlam of cries and whacks and the grind of steel onice. Science was forgotten for the moment; Hammond was fighting toothand nail to drive back the invader. Once the puck was wrested from FerryHill and shot back up the ice to the middle of the rink, but Chub wasawaiting it and brought it back, speeding along like an express train.He passed to Kirby in time to fool a Hammond forward, dodged, receivedthe puck again and charged down on goal, dispersing the foe by the sheerimpetus. Sticks flew about his feet and point threw himself at him. Thencame a quick side pass to Roy, the sharp sound of stick against puck andthe ring of the iron post as the hard rubber disk struck it and glancedin. Five to six, and Ferry Hill coming all the time! How thebrown-decked boys along the sides yelled! Mr. Cobb consulted thetime-keeper.
"Two minutes left!" he called.
"Time enough to win in!" shouted Roy.
"Sure!" answered Jack triumphantly. With sticks gyrating they sped backto their positions. But Hammond was in no hurry now and the time-keeperkept his eyes carefully on his stop-watch until finally the whistleshrilled again. Then back to the fray went the brown jerseys and overthe ice sped the Ferry Hill skates. A rush down the rink and again theHammond goal was in danger. A quick swoop of Warren's stick and the puckwas winging straight for the goal. But a gloved hand met it and tossedit aside. Roy swung circling back and passed across to Jack. Anothershot, this time wide of the net. Schonberg and Jack fought it out in thecorner and Jack rapped the disk out to Warren. The Hammond cover-pointchecked his stick and secured the disk, shooting it down the rink. AHammond forward got it but was off-side. Warren joined him
and theyfaced near the center. A quick pass to Jack and the forwards turned anddug their blades into the ice. Down they came, charging and passing,past cover-point, past point, and then--
Out shot goal and away to the left rolled the puck. Roy, turning afterit, shot a quick glance at the time-keeper. Then he was fighting with aHammond man for possession of the elusive black disk, their bodiescrashing against the boards and their sticks flying hither and thither.But Warren came to the rescue, poked the puck out from under theHammondite's skate and passed it across to Kirby in front of goal.Another try and another stop by the Cherry's goal-tend. And so it wentand so went the precious seconds. And then, suddenly, with the puckwithin a yard of goal once more and Roy's stick raised for a shot, thewhistle rang out!
"Time's up!" announced Mr. Cobb.
Roy turned fiercely.
"It can't be up!" he cried, skating toward the referee.
"It is, though," was the answer.
"That's perfect nonsense!" said Roy hotly. "You said there was twominutes left just a minute ago!"
"That'll do, Porter," said Mr. Cobb coldly.
Roy dropped his eyes, swallowed something hard in his throat andexamined a cut on his hand. Then,
"Beg pardon, sir," he said. "This way, fellows! A cheer for Hammond--andmake it good!"
Well, it wasn't very good. But then you can scarcely blame them whenanother second would perhaps have tied the score. But they cheered, andHammond answered it; and the hockey season had ended with a defeat forFerry Hill. Schonberg skated over to Roy and held out his hand.
"You had us on the run, Porter," he said. "If we'd played five minuteslonger you'd have won. You've got a slick team, all right! How aboutnext year? You're going to keep the team up, aren't you?"
"Sure," answered Roy. "And we're going to lick the stuffing out of you!"
The rival captain laughed good-naturedly.
"That's right. We've had a dandy time playing you chaps and we'll beready again next year. Good-bye."
"Good-bye," answered Roy as graciously as he could. "Glad you fellowscame over."
He turned and found Jack beside him.
"Say, Jack," he asked, "what's the longest period of time you can thinkof?"
"I don't know," answered Jack soberly. "What's the answer?"
"One year," was the glum reply.