NICK MAKES GOOD----CONCLUSION
The look upon the face of Nick Lang when Hugh spoke in this way told
the leader of the Scranton Hockey Seven he would fight with might and
main to turn the tables on the winning Belleville team.
Nick's hour had struck!
The long-awaited opportunity to prove the genuine nature of the
change that had taken place within his heart had arrived. He was
going into play as one of the Regulars; he had been especially picked
for that important service among twenty likely lads who only too
gladly would have accepted a chance to distinguish themselves in such
an emergency.
Accordingly Nick had a large letter S fastened to his jersey, to mark
the side on which he fought, so that the referee might easily know
where he belonged. One word from the coach as he strode forward Nick
would never forget as long as he lived; it was a word of confidence;
and, remembering how Mr. Leonard had at one time detested and
distrusted this boy, it meant everything to Nick.
The game started again after the lapse of seven minutes.
Belleville considered that they had "the edge" on the visitors, and
immediately went at it as though bent on adding considerably to the
number of goals marked to their credit. But almost immediately it
was discovered that the infusion of new blood had somehow altered the
complexion of things greatly.
Thanks principally to the marvelous agility and strategy of Nick, a
goal was shot inside of two minutes. It was immediately followed by
another, this time Nick winning the score without the least help from
anyone.
Wild applause rang out from parts of the crowd, where, of course,
Scranton rooters mostly congregated. How sweet those cheers must
have sounded in the ears of Nick Lange, who for years had only earned
the hoots and jeers of his fellows in Scranton, on account of their
distrust, and his own evil ways.
Why, the Belleville folks sat up and rubbed their eyes. They had
never dreamed that any fellow not a professional player could prove
himself such a marvelous wizard on steel runners. Nick fairly
dazzled them with his speed, his eccentric twistings when hotly
pursued, and the clever way in which he kept that rubber disc just in
front of his hockey stick, always carrying it along toward the point
where he meant to strike for goal.
And when he did make that stroke vain were the frantic efforts of the
usually dependable Leonard to block its amazing passage; for almost
before he swung he heard the plug of the puck landing in the wire
cage which he was especially set to guard, and knew that another
tally had been added to Scranton's growing score.
The conditions had changed, and the shoe was now on the other foot.
Thanks to the fine playing of Nick Lang Scranton was now ahead, and
it seemed extremely doubtful whether Belleville would have another
chance to make a single tally. The boys were plainly disconcerted by
the excellent work of the substitute, and seemed to have lost much of
that aggressive spirit so absolutely necessary in ice hockey in order
to win games. They played almost sullenly, as if realizing that it
was all over but the shouting.
Vain were the efforts of Captain Kramer to put new life in his
followers. He himself fought more desperately than ever, and once
even succeeded in taking the puck away from the triumphant Nick, the
only one who attained that glory; only to lose it immediately
afterwards to Owen Dugdale, who transferred it to Stevens by way of
Hobson; and then it plunged into the cage, despite Leonard's mad
attempt to stay its swift flight.
"Who's this you Scranton boys have thrown into the game?" demanded
one chagrined Belleville gentleman, as he saw what a radical change
Nick's coming had made in the affair on the ice rink. "He plays
suspiciously like a certain Canadian I saw last winter, who set
everybody in New York City wild with his work. Is Jean La Rue
visiting anybody in Scranton; and have you rung him in on us to-day,
to send our poor chaps down to defeat?"
"Don't you believe it, Mister," chortled a boy standing near by,
whose jersey was decorated with the letters "S. H. S.," standing, of
course, for Scranton High School. "That fellow is only our Nick
Lang, who was born and brought up in our home town. The place was
never proud of that face until this great day, because Nick, you see,
has been the worst boy ever known in Scranton. Why, his escapades
would take a week to tell you. He used to be the terror of
everybody, the bully all boys feared and shunned. But it seems like
Nick has turned over a new leaf. Folks didn't all believe in his
change of heart; but after to-day, say, Nick could own the whole town
if he was so minded. I'd give a heap if I was standing in his shoes
this same day. He'll be a hero, as sure as he used to be the town
scapegrace!"
It was just that way up to the time the referee signaled that the
last half of the game had been played to a finish. Nick seemed
capable of doing almost as he pleased. Whenever he got possession of
the puck it was, as one enthusiastic Scranton boy whooped, a "regular
procession." The Belleville lads just couldn't touch him. His
actions bewildered them, so that they were continually becoming mixed
up with their own side when they thought to corner Nick and the puck.
The score?
Well, it seemed too bad that after such a brilliant beginning
Belleville should fall so low, and see the terrible figures, thirteen
to seven, marked up against them.
In the annals of sport, as chronicled at Scranton High, that contest
would always be known as the "Battle of Winchester," just because, as
in the Civil War, when the Union army was in retreat and demoralized,
the coming of a single man, General Phil Sheridan, caused them to
turn about, and presently win a conclusive and overwhelming victory.
And Nick Lang had been the Phil Sheridan for Scranton on that
glorious day!
Nick tried to make a "grand sneak" as soon as the game finished, but
the crowd would have none of that, hemming him in so that he could
not run; and then for the first time in all his life the one-time
bully of Scranton tasted of the joys of popularity.
Fellows wrung his hand who had always treated him with disdain. He
was slapped on the back and praised to the skies. Why, even Sue
Barnes, Ivy Middleton, Peggy Noland, and a lot of other school-girls
seemed proud to shake hands with Nick, who was as red in the face as
a turkey gobbler, and rendered quite breathless trying to answer the
myriad of sincere congratulations that were showered on him.
But by the happy light in his eyes Hugh knew the die was cast, once
and for all. Having tasted of the sweets of popularity and honest
praise, nothing on earth could now tempt Nick to fall back again to
his former ignoble ways. His foot was firmly planted on the second
round of the ladder, and he had his aspiring eye on the better things
nearer the top.
The deacon had come over to see the game. He and Hugh went home
together, and the talk was mostly concerning the wonderful
reformation of Nick Lang.
"I'm hoping to have Nick come to me when he leaves school," the good
old man was saying. "He has the making of a clever blacksmith in
him, and I'd dearly like to turn over my shop to him some day not far
in the future; because it's almost time the old man retired, now that
he has a sunbeam coming to his house, which is going to take up much
of his attention."
So it seemed that Nick's future was assured, if so be he cared to
take up that honorable trade, by means of which the deacon had
accumulated his little fortune.
As for the two former pals of Nick, Tip Slavin and Leon Disney, in
due time they were convicted of the robbery of Paul Kramer's store,
and sent away to the excellent State institution, to remain there
until they had reached the age of twenty-one.
There was at least a fair hope that long before that time arrived one
or both of the boys would have learned a trade and decided to live a
respectable life in the future; for many lads who were deemed
uncontrollable at home, under the lax training they received there,
have been fashioned into splendid men because of the strict
discipline at the Reform School.
There is little more to add to make our story complete.
Joey and his mother were soon installed under the hospitable roof of
the deacon, where they found themselves the objects of love and
devotion. The miseries of the past would soon be forgotten in the
great happiness that had come to them. And certain it is that no one
would be a more welcome guest there than Hugh Morgan, because it was
partly through his efforts that this joyous event had been made
possible.
Since Scranton High had taken such a leading part in the outdoor
sports so beloved by all wide-awake boys, it could be set down as
certain that the fellows in Allandale and Belleville would not be
content to let them rest upon their well-earned laurels, but would
strive with might and main to excel them on the diamond, the
cinder-path, the football gridiron, or some other field of athletic
endeavor.
That many fiercely contested games would result was a foregone
conclusion; and it is to be hoped that we shall have the privilege of
meeting the readers of this volume in the pages of subsequent books,
where some of those exciting happenings may be set down in an
interesting manner.
THE END