Glengarry School Days: A Story of Early Days in Glengarry

by Ralph Connor

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE FINAL ROUND

  After the New-Year the school filled up with big boys, some of whom hadreturned with the idea of joining the preparatory class for college,which the minister had persuaded John Craven to organize.

  Shinny, however, became the absorbing interest for all the boys, bothbig and little. This interest was intensified by the rumors that came upfrom the Front, for it was noised through the Twentieth section that DanMunro, whose father was a cousin of Archie Munro, the former teacher,had come from Marrintown and taken charge of the Front school, and that,being used to the ice game, and being full of tricks and swift asa bird, he was an exceedingly dangerous man. More than that, he wastraining his team with his own tricks, and had got back to school someof the old players, among whom were no less renowned personages than HecRoss and Jimmie "Ben." Jimmie Ben, to wit, James son of Benjamin McEwen,was more famed for his prowess as a fighter than for his knowledgeof the game of shinny, but every one who saw him play said he was "aterror." Further, it was rumored that there was a chance of themgetting for goal Farquhar McRae, "Little Farquhar," or "Farquhar Bheg"(pronounced "vaick"), as he was euphoniously called, who presumably hadonce been little, but could no longer claim to be so, seeing that he wassix feet, and weighed two hundred pounds.

  It behooved the Twentieth team, therefore, to bestir themselves with alldiligence, and in this matter Hughie gave no rest either to himself orto any one else likely to be of use in perfecting his team. For Hughiehad been unanimously chosen captain, in spite of his protests that themaster or one of the big boys should hold that place. But none of thebig boys knew the new game as perfectly as Hughie, and the master hadabsolutely refused, saying, "You beat them once, Hughie, and you can doit again." And as the days and weeks went on, Hughie fully justified theteam's choice of him as captain. He developed a genius for organization,a sureness of judgment, and a tact in management, as well as a skill andspeed in play, that won the confidence of every member of his team. Heset himself resolutely to banish any remaining relics of the ancientstyle of play. In the old game every one rushed to hit the ball withoutregard to direction or distance, and the consequence was, that from endto end of the field a mob of yelling, stick-waving players more or lessaimlessly followed in the wake of the ball. But Hughie and the masterchanged all that, forced the men to play in their positions, trainingthem never to drive wildly forward, but to pass to a man, and to keeptheir clubs down and their mouths shut.

  The striking characteristic of Hughie's own playing was a certainfierceness, amounting almost to fury, so that when he was in the attackhe played for every ounce there was in him. His chief weakness lay inhis tempestuous temper, which he found difficult to command, but as heworked his men from day to day, and week to week, the responsibility ofhis position and the magnitude of the issues at stake helped him to aself-control quite remarkable in him.

  As the fateful day drew near the whole section was stirred with anintense interest and excitement, in which even the grave and solemnelders shared, and to a greater degree, the minister and his wife.

  At length the day, as all days great and small, actually arrived. A bigcrowd awaited the appearance of "the folks from the Front." They wereexpected about two, but it was not till half-past that there was heardin the distance the sound of the bagpipes.

  "Here they are! That's Alan the cooper's pipes," was the cry, andbefore long, sure enough there appeared Alphonse le Roque driving hisFrench-Canadian team, the joy and pride of his heart, for Alphonse wasa born horse-trainer, and had taught his French-Canadians manyextraordinary tricks. On the dead gallop he approached the crowd tillwithin a few yards, when, at a sudden command, they threw themselvesupon their haunches, and came almost to a standstill. With a crack ofhis long whip Alphonse gave the command, "Deesplay yousef!" At once hisstout little team began to toss their beautiful heads, and broke intoa series of prancing curves that would not have shamed a pair ofgreyhounds. Then, as they drew up to the stopping-point, he gatheredup his lines, and with another crack of his whip, cried, "Salute zeladies!" when, with true equine courtesy, they rose upon their hind legsand gracefully pawed the empty air. Finally, after depositing his loadamid the admiring exclamations of the crowd, he touched their tails withthe point of his whip, gave a sudden "Whish!" and like hounds from theleash his horses sprang off at full gallop.

  One after another the teams from the Front swung round and emptied theirloads.

  "Man! what a crowd!" said Hughie to Don. "There must be a hundred atleast."

  "Yes, and there's Hec Ross and Jimmie Ben," said Don, "and sure enough,Farquhar Begh. We'll be catching it to-day, whatever," continued Don,cheerfully.

  "Pshaw! we licked as big men before. It isn't size," said Hughie, withfar more confidence than he felt.

  It was half an hour before the players were ready to begin. The rules ofthe game were few and simple. The play was to be one hour each way,with a quarter of an hour rest between. There was to be no tripping,no hitting on the shins when the ball was out of the scrimmage, and alldisputes were to be settled by the umpire, who on this occasion was themaster of the Sixteenth school.

  "He's no good," grumbled Hughie to his mother, who was even more excitedthan her boy himself. "He can't play himself, and he's too easy scared."

  "Never mind," said his mother, brightly; "perhaps he won't have much todo."

  "Much to do! Well, there's Jimmie Ben, and he's an awful fighter, butI'm not going to let him frighten me," said Hughie, savagely; "andthere's Dan Munro, too, they say he's a terror, and Hec Ross. Of coursewe've got just as good men, but they won't fight. Why, Johnnie 'BigDuncan' and Don, there, are as good as any of them, but they won'tfight."

  The mother smiled a little.

  "What a pity! But why should they fight? Fighting is not shinny."

  "No, that's what the master says. And he's right enough, too, but it'sawful hard when a fellow doesn't play fair, when he trips you up orclubs you on the shins when you're not near the ball. You feel likehitting him back."

  "Yes, but that's the very time to show self-control."

  "I know. And that's what the master says."

  "Of course it is," went on his mother. "That's what the game is for, toteach the boys to command their tempers. You remember 'he that rulethhis spirit is better than he that taketh a city.'

  "O, it's all right," said Hughie, "and easy enough to talk about."

  "What's easy enough to talk about?" asked the master, coming up.

  "Taking a city," said Mrs. Murray, smiling at him.

  The master looked puzzled.

  "Mother means," said Hughie, "keeping one's temper in shinny. But I'mtelling her it's pretty hard when a fellow clubs you on the shins whenyou're away from the ball."

  "Yes, of course it's hard," said the master, "but it's better than beinga cad," which brought a quick flush to Hughie's face, but helped himmore than anything else to keep himself in hand that day.

  "Can't understand a man," said the master, "who goes into a game andthen quits it to fight. If it's fighting, why fight, but if it's shinny,play the game. Big team against us, eh, captain?" he continued, lookingat the Front men, who were taking a preliminary spin upon the ice, "andpretty swift, too."

  "If they play fair, I don't mind," said Hughie. "I'm not afraid of them;but if they get slugging--"

  "Well, if they get slugging," said the master, "we'll play the game andwin, sure."

  "Well, it's time to begin," said Hughie, and with a good by to hismother he turned away.

  "Remember, take a city," she called out after him.

  "All right, muzzie, I'll remember."

  In a few moments the teams were in position opposite each other. Theteam from the Front made a formidable show in weight and muscle. At theright of the forward line stood the redoubtable Dan Munro, the stocky,tricky, fierce captain of the Front team, and with him three rathersmall boys in red shirts. The defense consisted of Hec Ross, themuch-famed and much-feared Jimmie Ben, while in
goal, sure enough, stoodthe immense and solid bulk of Farquhar Bheg. The center was held by fourboys of fair size and weight.

  In the Twentieth team the forward line was composed of Jack Ross, CurlyRoss's brother, Fusie, Davie Scotch, and Don Cameron. The center wasplayed by Hughie, with three little chaps who made up for their lack ofweight by their speed and skill. The defense consisted of Johnnie "BigDuncan," to wit, John, the son of Big Duncan Campbell, on the left hand,and the master on the right, backed up by Thomas Finch in goal, who muchagainst his will was in the game that day. His heart was heavy withinhim, for he saw, not the gleaming ice and the crowding players, but "theroom" at home, and his mother, with her pale, patient face, sitting inher chair. His father, he knew, would be beside her, and Jessac would beflitting about. "But for all that, she'll have a long day," he said tohimself, for only his loyalty to the school and to Hughie had broughthim to the game that day.

  When play was called, Hughie, with Fusie immediately behind him, stoodfacing Dan in the center with one of the little Red Shirts at his back.It was Dan's drop. He made a pass or two, then shot between his legsto a Red Shirt, who, upon receiving, passed far out to Red Shirt numberthree, who flew along the outer edge and returned swiftly to Dan, nowfar up the other side. Like the wind Dan sped down the line, dodgedJohnnie Big Duncan easily, and shot from the corner, straight, swift,and true, a goal.

  "One for the Front!" Eleven shinny-sticks went up in the air, thebagpipes struck up a wild refrain, big Hec Ross and Jimmie Ben danced ahuge, unwieldy, but altogether jubilant dance round each other, and thensettled down to their places, for it was Hughie's drop.

  Hughie took the ball from the umpire and faced Dan with some degree ofnervousness, for Dan was heavy and strong, and full of confidence. Aftera little manoeuvering he dropped the ball between Dan's legs, but Dan,instead of attending to the ball, charged full upon him and laid himflat, while one of the Red Shirts, seizing the ball, flew off withit, supported by a friendly Red Shirt on either side of him, with Danfollowing hard.

  Right through the crowd dodged the Red Shirts till they came up to theTwentieth line of defense, when forth came Johnnie Big Duncan in swiftattack. But the little Red Shirt who had the ball, touching it slightlyto the right, tangled himself up in Johnnie Big Duncan's legs and senthim sprawling, while Dan swiped the ball to another Red Shirt who hadslipped in behind the master, for there was no such foolishness asoff-side in that game. Like lightning the Red Shirt caught the ball, andrushing at Thomas, shot furiously at close quarters. Goal number two forthe Front!

  Again on all sides rose frantic cheers. "The Front! The Front! Murroforever!" Two games had been won, and not a Twentieth man had touchedthe ball. With furtive, uncertain glances the men of the Twentiethteam looked one at the other, and all at their captain, as if seekingexplanation of this extraordinary situation.

  "Well," said Hughie, in a loud voice, to the master, and with a carelesslaugh, though at his heart he was desperate, "they are giving us alittle taste of our own medicine."

  The master dropped to buckle his skate, deliberately unwinding thestrap, while the umpire allowed time.

  "Give me a hand with this, Hughie," he called, and Hughie skated up tohim.

  "Well," said Craven, smiling up into Hughie's face, "that's a good,swift opening, isn't it?"

  "Oh, it's terrible," groaned Hughie. "They're going to lick us off theice."

  "Well," replied the master, slowly, "I wouldn't be in a hurry to sayso. We have a hundred minutes and more to win in yet. Now, don't you seethat their captain is their great card. Suppose you let the ball go fora game or two, and stick to Dan. Trail him, never let him shake you. Therest of us will take care of the game."

  "All right," said Hughie, "I'll stick to him," and off he set for thecenter.

  As the loser, Hughie again held the drop. He faced Dan withdetermination to get that ball out to Fusie, and somehow he felt in hisbones that he should succeed in doing this. Without any preliminary hedropped, and knocked the ball toward Fusie.

  But this was evidently what Dan expected, for as soon as Hughie made themotion to drop he charged hard upon the waiting Fusie. Hughie, however,had his plan as well, for immediately upon the ball leaving his stick,he threw himself in Dan's way, checking him effectually, and allowingFusie, with Don and Scotchie following, to get away.

  The Front defense, however, was too strong, and the ball came shootingback toward the line of Reds, one of whom, making a short run, passedfar out to Dan on the right. But before the latter could get up speed,Hughie was upon him, and ignoring the ball, blocked and bothered andchecked him, till one of the Twentieth centers, rushing in, secured itfor his side.

  "Ha! well done, captain!" came Craven's voice across the ice, andHughie felt his nerve come back. If he could hold Dan, that deadly Frontcombination might be broken.

  Meantime Don had secured the ball from Craven, and was rushing up hisright wing.

  "Here you are, Hughie," he cried, shooting across the Front goal.

  Hughie sprang to receive, but before he could shoot Dan was upon him,checking so hard that Hughie was sent sprawling to the ice, while Danshot away with the ball.

  But before he had gone very far Hughie was after him like a whirlwind,making straight for his own goal, so that by the time Dan had arrived atshooting distance, Hughie was again upon him, and while in the very actof steadying himself for his try at the goal, came crashing into himwith such fierceness of attack that Dan was flung aside, while JohnnieBig Duncan, capturing the ball, sent it across to the master.

  It was the master's first chance for the day. With amazing swiftnessand dexterity he threaded the outer edge of the ice, and with a suddenswerve across, avoided the throng that had gathered to oppose him, andthen with a careless ease, as if it were a matter of little importance,he dodged in between the heavy Front defense, shot his goal, and skatedback coolly to his place.

  The Twentieth's moment had come, and both upon the ice and upon thebanks the volume and fierceness of the cheering testified to theintensity of the feeling that had been so long pent up.

  That game had revealed to Hughie two important facts: the first, that hewas faster than Dan in a straight race; and the second, that it would beadvisable to feed the master, for it was clearly apparent that there wasnot his equal upon the ice in dodging.

  "That was well done, captain," said Craven to Hughie, as he was coollyskating back to his position.

  "A splendid run, sir," cried Hughie, in return.

  "Oh, the run was easy. It was your check there that did the trick.That's the game," he continued, lowering his voice. "It's hard on you,though. Can you stand it?"

  "Well, I can try for a while," said Hughie, confidently.

  "If you can," said the master, "we've got them," and Hughie settled downinto the resolve that, cost what it might, he would stick like a leechto Dan.

  He imparted his plan to Fusie, adding, "Now, whenever you see me tackleDan, run in and get the ball. I'm not going to bother about it."

  Half an hour had gone. The score stood two to one in favor of the Front,but the result every one felt to be still uncertain. That last attack ofHughie's, and the master's speedy performance, gave some concern to themen of the Front, and awakened a feeling of confidence in the Twentiethteam.

  But Dan, wise general that he was, saw the danger, and gave his commandsere he faced off for the new game.

  "When that man Craven gets it," he said to the men of the center, "makestraight for the goal. Never mind the ball."

  The wisdom of this order became at once evident, for when in theface-off he secured the ball, Hughie clung so tenaciously to his heelsand checked him so effectually, that he was forced to resign it to theReds, who piercing the Twentieth center, managed to scurry up the icewith the ball between them. But when, met by Craven and Johnnie BigDuncan, they passed across to Dan, Hughie again checked so fiercely thatJohnnie Big Duncan secured the ball, passed back to the master, who withanother meteoric flash along the edge of the fie
ld broke through theFront's defense, and again shot.

  It was only Farquhar Bheg's steady coolness that saved the goal. It wasa near enough thing, however, to strike a sudden chill to the heart ofthe Front goal-keeper, and to make Dan realize that something must bedone to check these dangerous rushes of Craven.

  "Get in behind the defense there, and stay there," he said to two of hiscenters, and his tone indicated that his serene confidence in himselfand his team was slightly shaken. Hughie's close checking was beginningto chafe him, for his team in their practice had learned to dependunduly upon him.

  Noticing Dan's change in the disposition of his men, Hughie moved up twoof his centers nearer to the Front defense.

  "Get into their way," he said "and give the master a clear field."

  But this policy only assisted Dan's plan of defense, for the presenceof so many players before the Front goal filled up the ice to such anextent that Craven's rushes were impeded by mere numbers.

  For some time Dan watched the result of his tactics well satisfied,remaining himself for the time in the background. During one of thepauses, when the ball was out of play, he called one of the little Redsto him.

  "Look here," he said, "you watch this. Right after one of those rushesof Craven's, don't follow him down, but keep up to your position. I'llget the ball to you somehow, and then you'll have a chance to shoot.No use passing to me, for this little son of a gun is on my back like aflea on a dog." Dan was seriously annoyed.

  The little Red passed the word around and patiently waited his chance.Once and again the plan failed, chiefly because Dan could not get theball out of the scrimmage, but at length, when Hughie had been temptedto rush in with the hope of putting in a shot, the ball slid out of thescrimmage, and Dan, swooping down upon it, passed swiftly to the waitingRed who immediately shot far out to his alert wing, and then rushingdown the center and slipping past Johnnie Big Duncan, who had gone forthto meet Dan coming down the right, and the master who was attending tothe little Red on the wing, received the ball, and putting in a short,swift shot, scored another goal for the Front, amid a tempest ofhurrahings from the team and their supporters.

  The game now stood three to one in favor of the Front, and up to the endof the first hour no change was made in this score.

  And now there was a scene of the wildest enthusiasm and confusion. TheFront people flocked upon the ice and carried off their team to theirquarter of the shanty, loading them with congratulations and refreshingthem with various drinks.

  "Better get your men together, captain," suggested Craven, and Hughiegathered them into the Twentieth corner of the shanty.

  In spite of the adverse score Hughie found his team full of fight. Theycrowded about him and the master, eager to listen to any explanation ofthe present defeat that might be offered for their comfort, or to anyplans by which the defeat might be turned into victory. Someminutes they spent in excitedly discussing the various games, and ingood-naturedly chaffing Thomas Finch for his failure to prevent a score.But Thomas had nothing to say in reply. He had done his best, and he hada feeling that they all knew it. No man was held in higher esteem by theteam than the goal-keeper.

  "Any plan, captain?" asked the master, after they had talked for someminutes, and all grew quiet.

  "What do you think, sir?" said Hughie.

  "O, let us hear from you. You're the captain."

  "Well," said Hughie, slowly, and with deliberate emphasis, "I think weare going to win." (Yells from all sides.) "At any rate we ought towin, for I think we have the better team." (More yells.) "What I mean isthis, I think we are better in combination play, and I don't think theyhave a man who can touch the master."

  Enthusiastic exclamations, "That's right!" "Better believe it!" "Horo!"

  "But we have a big fight before us. And that Dan Munro's a terror. Theonly change I can think of is to open out more and fall back from theirgoal for a little while. And then, if I can hold Dan--"

  Cries of "You'll hold him all right!" "You are the lad!"

  "Everybody should feed the master. They can't stop him, any of them.But I would say for the first while, anyway, play defense. What do youthink, sir?" appealing to the master.

  "I call that good tactics. But don't depend too much upon me; if any manhas a chance for a run and a shot, let him take it. And don't give upyour combination in your forward line. The captain is quite right inseeking to draw them away from their goal. Their defense territory istoo full now. Now, what I have noticed is this, they mainly rely uponDan Munro and upon their three big defense men. For the first fifteenminutes they will make their hardest push. Let us take the captain'sadvice, fall back a little, and so empty their defense. But on thewhole, keep your positions, play to your men, and," he added, with asmile, "don't get too mad."

  "I guess they will be making some plans, too," said Thomas Finch,slowly, and everybody laughed.

  "That's quite right, Thomas, but we'll give them a chance for the firstwhile to show us what they mean to do."

  At this point the minister came in, looking rather gloomy.

  "Well, Mr. Craven, rather doubtful outlook, is it not?"

  "O, not too bad, sir," said the master, cheerfully.

  "Three to one. What worse do you want?"

  "Well, six to one would be worse," replied the master. "Besides, theirfirst two games were taken by a kind of fluke. We didn't knowtheir play. You will notice they have taken only one in the lastthree-quarters of an hour."

  "I doubt they are too big for you," continued the minister.

  "Isn't altogether size that wins in shinny," said Mr. Craven. "Hughiethere isn't a very big man, but he can hold any one of them."

  "Well, I hope you may be right," said the minister. "I am sorry I haveto leave the game to see a sick man up Kenyon way."

  "Sorry you can't stay, sir, to see us win," said Craven, cheerfully,while Hughie slipped out to see his mother before she went.

  "Well, my boy," said his mother, "you are playing a splendid game, andyou are getting better as you go on."

  "Thanks, mother. That's the kind of talk we like," said Hughie, whohad been a little depressed by his father's rather gloomy views. "I'mawfully sorry you can't stay."

  "And so am I, but we must go. But we shall be back in time for supper,and you will ask all the team to come down to celebrate their victory."

  "Good for you, mother! I'll tell them, and I bet they'll play."

  Meantime the team from the Front had been having something of ajollification in their quarters. They were sure of victory, and in spiteof their captain's remonstrances had already begun to pass round thebottle in the way of celebration.

  "They're having something strong in there," said little Mac McGregor."Wish they'd pass some this way."

  "Let them have it," said Johnnie Big Duncan, whose whole family eversince the revival had taken a total abstinence pledge, although thiswas looked upon as a very extreme position indeed, by almost all thecommunity. But Big Duncan Campbell had learned by very bitter experiencethat for him, at least, there was no safety in a moderate use of "God'sgood creature," as many of his fellow church-members designated the"mountain dew," and his sons had loyally backed him up in this attitude.

  "Quite, right!" said the master, emphatically. "And if they had anysense they would know that with every drink they are throwing away a bigchance of winning."

  "Horo, you fellows!" shouted big Hec Ross across to them, "aren't yougoing to play any more? Have you got enough of it already?"

  "We will not be caring for any more of yon kind," said Johnnie BigDuncan, good-naturedly, "and we were thinking of giving you a change."

  "Come away and be at it, then," said Hec, "for we're all getting cold."

  "That's easily cured," said Dan, as they sallied forth to the ice again,"for I warrant you will not be suffering from the cold in five minutes."

  When the teams took up their positions, it was discovered that Dan hadfallen back to the center, and Hughie was at a loss to know how to m
eetthis new disposition of the enemy's force.

  "Let them go on," said the master, with whom Hughie was holding ahurried consultation. "You stick to him, and we'll play defense tillthey develop their plan."

  The tactics of the Front became immediately apparent upon the drop ofthe ball, and proved to be what the master had foretold. No sooner hadthe game begun than the big defense men advanced with the centers to theattack, and when Hughie followed up his plan of sticking closely to DanMunro and hampering him, he found Jimmie Ben upon him, swiping furiouslywith his club at his shins, with evident intention of intimidatinghim, as well as of relieving Dan from his attentions. But if Jimmie Benthought by his noisy shouting and furious swiping to strike terror tothe heart of the Twentieth captain, he entirely misjudged his man; forwithout seeking to give him back what he received in kind, Hughie playedhis game with such skill and pluck, that although he was considerablybattered about the shins, he was nevertheless able to prevent Dan frommaking any of his dangerous rushes.

  Craven, meantime, if he noticed Hughie's hard case, was so fullyoccupied with the defense of the goal that he could give no thought toanything else. Shot after shot came in upon Thomas at close range,and so savage and reckless was the charge of the Front that their bigdefense men, Hec Ross and Jimmie Ben, abandoning their own positions,were foremost in the melee before the Twentieth goal.

  For fully fifteen minutes the ball was kept in the Twentieth territory,and only the steady coolness of Craven and Johnnie Big Duncan, backedby Hughie's persistent checking of the Front captain and the magnificentsteadiness of Thomas in goal, saved the game.

  At length, as the fury of the charge began to expend itself a little,Craven got his chance. The ball had been passed out to Dan upon the leftwing of the Front forward line. At once Hughie was upon him, but JimmieBen following hard, with a cruel swipe at Hughie's skates, laid himflat, but not until he had succeeded in hindering to some degree Dan'sescape with the ball. Before the Front captain could make use of hisadvantage and get clear away, the master bore down upon him like awhirlwind, hurled him clear off his feet, secured the ball, dashed upthe open field, and eluding the two centers, who had been instructed tocover the goal, easily shot between the balsam-trees.

  For a few moments the Twentieth men went mad, for they all felt that acrisis had been passed. The failure of the Front in what had evidentlybeen a preconcerted and very general attack was accepted as an omen ofvictory.

  The Front men, on the other hand, were bitterly chagrined. They had comeso near it, and yet had failed. Jimmie Ben was especially savage. Hecame down the ice toward the center, yelling defiance and threats ofvengeance. "Come on here! Don't waste time. Let us at them. We'll knockthem clear off the ice."

  It was Dan's drop. As he was preparing to face off, the master skated upand asked the umpire for time. At once the crowd gathered round.

  "What's the matter?" "What's up?" "What do you want?" came on all sidesfrom the Front team, now thoroughly aroused and thirsting for vengeance.

  "Mr. Umpire," said the master, "I want to call your attention to a bitof foul play that must not be allowed to go on"; and then he describedJimmie Ben's furious attack upon Hughie.

  "It was a deliberate trip, as well as a savage swipe at a man's shinswhen the ball was not near."

  At once Jimmie Ben gave him the lie, and throwing down his club, slammedhis cap upon the ice and proceeded to execute a war-dance about it.

  For a few moments there was a great uproar, and then the master's voicewas heard again addressing the umpire.

  "I want to know your ruling upon this, Mr. Umpire"; and somehow hisvoice commanded a perfect stillness.

  "Well," said the umpire, hesitating, "of course--if a man trips it isfoul play, but--I did not see any tripping. And of course--swiping ata man's shins is not allowed, although sometimes--it can't very well behelped in a scrimmage."

  "I merely want to call your attention to it," said the master. "Myunderstanding of our arrangements, Mr. Munro," he said, addressing theFront captain, "is that we are here to play shinny. You have come uphere, I believe, to win the game by playing shinny, and we are here toprevent you. If you have any other purpose, or if any of your men haveany other purpose, we would be glad to know it now, for we entered thisgame with the intention of playing straight, clean shinny."

  "That's right!" called out Hec Ross; "that's what we're here for." Andhis answer was echoed on every side, except by Jimmie Ben, who continuedto bluster and offer fight.

  "O, shut your gab!" finally said Farquhar Bheg, impatiently. "If youwant to fight, wait till after the game is done."

  "Here's your cap, Jimmie," piped a thin, little voice. "You'll take coldin your head." It was little French Fusie, holding up Jimmie's cap onthe end of his shinny club, and smiling with the utmost good nature, butwith infinite impudence, into Jimmie's face.

  At once there was a general laugh at Jimmie Ben's expense, who with agrowl, seized his cap, and putting it on his head, skated off to hisplace.

  "Now," said Hughie, calling his men together for a moment, "let us crowdthem hard, and let's give the master every chance we can."

  "No," said the master, "they are waiting for me. Suppose you leave Danto me for a while. You go up and play your forward combination. They arenot paying so much attention to you. Make the attack from your wing."

  At the drop Dan secured the ball, and followed by Fusie, flew up thecenter with one of the Reds on either hand. Immediately the mastercrossed to meet him, checked him hard, and gave Fusie a chance, who,seizing the ball, passed far up to Hughie on the right.

  Immediately the Twentieth forward line rushed, and by a beautiful hitof combined play, brought the ball directly before the Front goal, whenDon, holding it for a moment till Hughie charged in upon Farquhar Bheg,shot, and scored.

  The result of their combination at once inspired the Twentieth team withfresh confidence, and proved most disconcerting to their opponents.

  "That's the game, boys," said the master, delightedly. "Keep your heads,and play your positions." And so well did the forward line respond thatfor the next ten minutes the game was reduced to a series of attacksupon the Front goal, and had it not been for the dashing play of theircaptain and the heavy checking of the Front defense, the result wouldhave been most disastrous to them.

  Meantime, the Twentieth supporters, lined along either edge, became moreand more vociferous as they began to see that their men were getting thegame well into their own hands. That steady, cool, systematic play ofman to man was something quite new to those accustomed to the old styleof game, and aroused the greatest enthusiasm.

  Gradually the Front were forced to fall back into their territory, andto play upon the defensive, while the master and Johnnie Big Duncan,moving up toward the center, kept their forward line so stronglysupported, and checked so effectually any attempts to break through,that thick and fast the shots fell upon the enemy's goal.

  There remained only fifteen minutes to play. The hard pace was beginningto tell upon the big men, and the inevitable reaction following theirunwise "celebrating" began to show itself in their stale and spiritlessplay. On the other hand, the Twentieth were as fresh as ever, andpressed the game with greater spirit every moment.

  "Play out toward the side," urged Dan, despairing of victory, butdetermined to avert defeat, and at every opportunity the ball wasknocked out of play. But like wolves the Twentieth forwards were uponthe ball, striving to keep it in play, and steadily forcing it towardthe enemy's goal.

  Dan became desperate. He was wet with perspiration, and his breath wascoming in hard gasps. He looked at his team. The little Reds were fitenough, but the others were jaded and pumped out. Behind him stoodJimmie Ben, savage, wet, and weary.

  At one of the pauses, when the ball was out of play, Dan dropped on hisknee.

  "Hold on there a minute," he cried; "I want to fix this skate of mine."

  Very deliberately he removed his strap, readjusted his skate, and beganslowly to set the stra
p in place again.

  "They want a rest, I guess. Better take off the time, umpire," sang outFusie, dancing as lively as a cricket round Jimmie Ben, who looked as ifhe would like to devour him bodily.

  "Shut up, Fusie!" said Hughie. "We've got all the time we need."

  "You have, eh?" said Jimmie Ben, savagely.

  "Yes," said Hughie, in sudden anger, for he had not forgotten JimmieBen's cruel swipe. "We don't need any more time than we've got, and wedon't need to play any dirty tricks, either. We're going to beat you.We've got you beaten now."

  "Blank your impudent face! Wait you! I'll show you!" said Jimmie Ben.

  "You can't scare me, Jimmie Ben," said Hughie, white with rage. "Youtried your best and you couldn't do it."

  "Play the game, Hughie," said the master, in a low tone, skating roundhim, while Hec Ross said, good-naturedly, "Shut up Jimmie Ben. You'llneed all your wind for your heels," at which all but Jimmie Ben laughed.

  For a moment Dan drew his men together.

  "Our only chance," he said, "is in a rush. Now, I want every man to makefor that goal. Never mind the ball. I'll get the ball there. And thenyou, Jimmie Ben, and a couple of you centers, make right back here onguard."

  "They're going to rush," said Hughie to his team. "Don't all go back.Centers fall back with me. You forwards keep up."

  At the drop Dan secured the ball, and in a moment the Front rush came.With a simultaneous yell the whole ten men came roaring down the ice,waving their clubs and flinging aside their lightweight opponents. Itwas a dangerous moment, but with a cry of "All steady, boys!" Hughiethrew himself right into Dan's way. But just for such a chance JimmieBen was watching, and rushing upon Hughie, caught him fairly with hisshoulder and hurled him to the ice, while the attacking line swept overhim.

  For a single moment Hughie lay dazed, but before any one could offerhelp he rose slowly, and after a few deep breaths, set off for thescrimmage.

  There was a wild five minutes. Eighteen or twenty men were massed infront of the Twentieth goal, striking, shoving, yelling, the solidweight of the Front defense forcing the ball ever nearer the goal. Inthe center of the mass were Craven, Johnnie Big Duncan, and Don fightingevery inch.

  For a few moments Hughie hovered behind his goal, his heart full ofblack rage, waiting his chance. At length he saw an opening. Jimmie Ben,slashing heavily, regardless of injury to himself or any others, hadedged the ball toward the Twentieth left. Taking a short run, Hughie,reckless of consequences, launched himself head first into Jimmie Ben'sstomach, swiping viciously at the same time at the ball. For a momentJimmie Ben was flung back, and but for Johnnie Big Duncan would havefallen, but before he could regain his feet, the ball was set free ofthe scrimmage and away. Fusie, rushing in, had snapped it up and hadgone scuttling down the ice, followed by Hughie and the master.

  Before Fusie had got much past center, Dan, who had been playing in therear of the scrimmage, overtook him, and with a fierce body check upsetthe little Frenchman and secured the ball. Wheeling, he saw both Hughieand Craven bearing down swiftly upon him.

  "Rush for the goal!" he shouted to Jimmie Ben, who was following Hughiehard. Jimmie Ben hesitated.

  "Back to your defense!" yelled Dan, cutting across and trying to escapebetween Hughie and Craven.

  It was in vain. Both of the Twentieth men fell upon him, and the master,snatching the ball, sped like lightning down the ice.

  The crowd went wild.

  "Get back! Get back there!" screamed Hughie to the mob crowding in uponthe ice. "Give us room! Give us a show!"

  At this moment Craven, cornered by Hec Ross and two of the Red Shirts,with Dan hard upon his heels, passed clear across the ice to Hughie.With a swift turn Hughie caught the ball, dodged Jimmie Ben's fiercespring at him, and shot. But even as he shot, Jimmie Ben, recovering hisbalance, reached him and struck a hard, swinging blow upon his ankle.There was a sharp crack, and Hughie fell to the ice. The ball went wide.

  "Time, there, umpire!" cried the master, falling on his knees besideHughie. "Are you hurt, Hughie?" he asked, eagerly. "What is it, my boy?"

  "Oh, master, it's broken, but don't stop. Don't let them stop. We mustwin this game. We've only a few minutes. Take me back to goal and sendThomas out."

  The eager, hurried whisper, the intense appeal in the white face anddark eyes, made the master hesitate in his emphatic refusal.

  "You can't--"

  "Oh, don't stop! Don't stop it for me," cried Hughie, gripping themaster's arm. "Help me up and take me back."

  The master swore a fierce oath.

  "We'll do it, my boy. You're a trump. Here, Don," he called aloud,"we'll let Hughie keep goal for a little," and they ran Hughie back tothe goal on one skate.

  "You go out, Thomas," gasped Hughie. "Don't talk. We've only fiveminutes."

  "They have broken his leg," said the master, with a sob in his voice.

  "Nothing wrong, I hope," said Dan, skating up.

  "No; play the game," said the master, fiercely. His black eyes wereburning with a deep, red glow.

  "Is it hurting much?" asked Thomas, lingering about Hughie.

  "Oh, you just bet! But don't wait. Go on! Go on down! You've got to getthis game!"

  Thomas glanced at the foot hanging limp, and then at the white butresolute face. Then saying with slow, savage emphasis, "The brute beast!As sure as death I'll do for him," he skated off to join the forwardline.

  It was the Front knock-off from goal. There was no plan of attack, butthe Twentieth team, looking upon the faces of the master and Thomas,needed no words of command.

  The final round was shot, short, sharp, fierce. A long drive fromFarquhar Bheg sent the ball far up into the Twentieth territory. It wasa bad play, for it gave Craven and Thomas their chance.

  "Follow me close, Thomas," cried the master, meeting the ball andsetting off like a whirlwind.

  Past the little Reds, through the centers, and into the defense linehe flashed, followed hard by Thomas. In vain Hec Ross tried to check,Craven was past him like the wind. There remained only Dan and JimmieBen. A few swift strides, and the master was almost within reach ofDan's club. With a touch of the ball to Thomas he charged into hiswaiting foe, flung him aside as he might a child, and swept on.

  "Take the man, Thomas," he cried, and Thomas, gathering himself up intwo short, quick strikes, dashed hard upon Jimmie Ben, and hurled himcrashing to the ice.

  "Take that, you brute, you!" he said, and followed after Craven.

  Only Farquhar Bheg was left.

  "Take no chances," cried Craven again. "Come on!" and both of themsweeping in upon the goal-keeper, lifted him clear through the goal andcarried the ball with them.

  "Time!" called the umpire. The great game was won.

  Then, before the crowd had realized what had happened, and before theycould pour in upon the ice, Craven skated back toward Jimmie Ben.

  "The game is over," he said, in a low, fierce tone. "You cowardlyblackguard, you weren't afraid to hit a boy, now stand up to a man, ifyou dare."

  Jimmie Ben was no coward. Dropping his club he came eagerly forward, butno sooner had he got well ready than Craven struck him fair in the face,and before he could fall, caught him with a straight, swift blow on thechin, and lifting him clear off his skates, landed him back on his headand shoulders on the ice, where he lay with his toes quivering.

  "Serve him right," said Hec Ross.

  There was no more of it. The Twentieth crowds went wild with joy andrage, for their great game was won, and the news of what had befallentheir captain had got round.

  "He took his city, though, Mrs. Murray," said the master, after thegreat supper in the manse that evening, as Hughie lay upon the sofa,pale, suffering, but happy. "And not only one, but a whole continent ofthem, and," he added, "the game as well."

  With sudden tears and a little break in her voice, the mother said,looking at her boy, "It was worth while taking the city, but I fear thegame cost too much."

  "Oh, pshaw, mother,
" said Hughie, "it's only one bone, and I tell youthat final round was worth a leg."