"There's no use talking, if you want to win you've got to know all the
tricks of the game."
Hoyt Dale, Parker High's sturdy left defense man, had been after his
team mates all season. They were more in the mood to listen to him now,
since they had just gone down to a stinging 5 to 2 defeat at the hands
of Brinkman Prep.
"This makes three straight losses," snapped Hoyt, "and we're going to
drop the big game with Hallstead as sure as shooting, unless...!"
"Unless what?" demanded Rudie Antrim, who played the other defense
position.
"Unless you guys learn how to give as well as take!" Hoyt finished,
defiantly. "Every team that plays us roughs us into the boards and
stick handles us all over the ice. They get away with murder because
Coach has never taught you fellows how to take care of yourselves. Why,
where I used to play...!"
"You were brought up on dirty hockey!" accused Rudie, his face
flushing. "We don't play that kind of hockey here. We'd rather lose
than...!"
"Oh, yes?" cut in Hoyt, bitingly. "That's the trouble with this school.
You've always had the idea that hockey's a parlor game when it's really
one of the most rugged sports there is. It can be rough without being
dirty ... but you birds can't rough it because you don't know how!"
Team members exchanged consulting glances. There was an element of
truth in Hoyt Dale's accusations. Their coach, Professor Dean Hogart,
had admitted that he had never played the game. His knowledge and
appreciation of the sport had been developed through observation during
years that he had spent in Canada. Such a background no doubt left much
to be desired but Parker High had been unable to afford a special
hockey coach since hockey was a new sport for the school and still
lacked sufficient public support.
"Something's wrong with us, that's certain," conceded Walt Lowery,
captain and centre. "Either we lack fighting spirit or...!"
"You _can't_ fight," insisted Hoyt, "unless you've got the tools to
fight with. That's what I've been hitting at all season."
"Something in that, too," admitted Bud Gray, goalie, glancing about
cautiously and lowering his voice. "Coach Hogart means all right, gang,
but there's certain inside stuff he doesn't know. I think myself we've
got a much better team than we've shown so far."
"Sure we have!" declared Hoyt. "That's what burns me up. We ought to be
giving each team we meet the battle of its life. If you fellows would
like me to put you wise to the tricks I know...?"
"Why don't you?" urged Ed Compton, right wing. "You've played more
hockey than any of us."
"Well, I-I'd be glad to if Coach wouldn't object."
"Coach wouldn't have to know," suggested Lee Burrell, left wing. "He'd
be for anything that would improve the team, anyway."
"Not if it's dirty playing," countered Rudie, "and that's what Hoyt's
system sounds like."
"You've got dirty playing on the brain," charged Hoyt. "You're sore
because I told you that you weren't body-checking hard enough. If you
want the truth, Rudie--you're one of the weakest spots on the team!"
Hoyt Dale, not long a resident in Parker, believed in speaking his
mind. One would have thought, to hear him, that he was captain of the
team. But Hoyt's nature was such he could not keep still for long. Team
mates had to give him credit for an aggressive, unrelenting style of
play. He was always diving into the midst of mêlées, slashing his stick
about madly and bumping opponents right and left. Occasionally he made
trips to the penalty box as the referee fouled him for tripping,
hitting or illegally checking a rival but Hoyt was soon back on the ice
as scrappy as ever. His willingness to mix it with the opposition had
established him as the most colorful player on Parker's sextet.
"I don't see how it will hurt any for Hoyt to help us out," supported
Captain Walt Lowery, with a clash between Parker's two defense men
imminent. "And you could afford to listen to him, too, since three
goals were scored down your side the ice today!"
"You know why?" flashed Rudie. "It's because Hoyt was grandstanding. He
wasn't back in position where he should have been and I was left to
guard both sides the ice."
"Aw, dry up, Rudie!" snapped Walt. "If you can't take a little
criticism you don't belong on the team. Hoyt's going to teach us a few
new wrinkles which may come in mighty handy against Hallstead. And
you'd better pay close attention yourself."
"I'll pay attention all right," rejoined Rudie, and glowered his
defiance at the fellow who had volunteered to impart his superior
knowledge to the squad.
It was decidedly unpopular, Rudie knew, to oppose a player who had
turned in a spectacular brand of hockey all season but he had not liked
Hoyt and his methods from the start. In Rudie's estimation, Hoyt was a
type who had to have the limelight at all times. If he didn't get it he
would either sulk or assume an indifferent attitude, placing the burden
of responsibility upon someone else. Hoyt liked winners and winning--so
much so, Rudie felt, that he would be inclined, in a pinch, to
sacrifice the elements of sportsmanship for it. However, if the fellows
were disposed to give him their ear, it was evident that Rudie would
place himself in disfavor by offering further opposition.
"I've already gotten myself in dutch with the gang," Rudie observed.
"Besides, Hoyt's got it in for me and he'll try to make me look bad if
he can. Only thing for me to do, from now on, is keep my mouth shut and
watch my step."
Hoyt Dale's secret hockey lesson proved something of a sensation. It
was Coach Hogart's practice, at the finish of the daily session on the
ice, to hurry off to attend to his professorial duties, leaving the
players to take their showers and change back to street togs. This
particular afternoon, the squad loitered on the rink until the coach
had departed when Hoyt took charge.
"First thing you guys want to learn," he snapped, importantly, "is how
to guard against being spilled. You can't play good hockey flat on your
back and that's where most of you are a good many times each game. If
you were onto your business you could spill the other fellow instead of
letting him spill you!"
And Hoyt picked Ralph Randall, substitute wingman, to illustrate how a
man could be body-checked and set down heavily upon the ice.
"If he tries this on you, give him the stick," Hoyt advised, and
demonstrated by sending Randall flying through space. "You can bet your
life that he won't try it a second time," Hoyt concluded, grinning.
"But that's illegal!" Rudie protested, finding it impossible to keep
still.
"The referee won't call it once in a dozen times," Hoyt answered. "It's
an old trick that's being used right along. You've got to use it to
protect yourself or you're all out of luck."
"It sure puts a man out of play," observed Ed Compton. "I know now
what's happened to me when I've done high dives. That stick between
your skates...!"
"Here's another one they're apt to pull on you," said Hoyt, advancing
toward Randall.
"Hey, no you don't!" said the sub. "Pick on somebody else!"
"I won't hurt you," Hoyt reassured. "Not much, anyway. See, we're in
close quarters, both of us after a free puck. We're trying to jockey
each other out of the way. My opponent comes in and we lock arms. He
tries to give me the elbow in the pit of the stomach but I beat him to
it. Result--it gets his wind and he slides out of the picture."
Randall, with a gasp, had relinquished his effort and dropped his stick
to the ice.
"You couldn't even see that, could you?" Hoyt asked, of the interested
team members. "Then how is a referee going to see it?... And then
there's this one--where you knock a man's feet out from under him with
a sidewipe of your skate."
Hoyt picked Hank Tolan, another sub to demonstrate upon. Hank did a
flip-flop and struck solidly on his side, skidding along the ice.
"You get the idea?" pointed Hoyt. "These are just a few of the things
that you're running into each game. You should be prepared to give your
opponents the same medicine ... and to guard against these fast ones.
There's an art, too, in riding a person into the boards. Come here,
Hank...!"
"No, thanks!"
Hoyt's knowledge of the various methods used to upset rival players and
effectively cut them out of the play was close to awe-inspiring. It was
something on the order of a police lieutenant demonstrating to a bunch
of rookies how to disarm a crook. Hoyt made it look very simple and
very, very impressive.
"Say, I thought most of the falls I took were just the result of bumps
that couldn't be avoided!" whistled Lee Burrell, "but I can see now
where I've been dumped with neatness and dispatch. Do that over again,
will you, Hoyt. I want to get the hang of it!"
The entire squad, a scowling Rudie Antrim included, set to work to
master the various undercover maneuvers.
"This is great!" approved Captain Walt Lowery, at the end of an hour.
"Now I really feel fortified for the first time. Wish we'd listened to
you earlier in the season, Hoyt. We might have had a better record."
"Well, this ought to give us a chance, at least, to beat Hallstead,"
said Hoyt. "And if we can take that veteran outfit who think they know
all there is to be known about this game, it'll be a big enough feather
in our caps."
"You said it!" seconded goalie Bud Gray, with enthusiasm. "What do you
think of Hoyt's stuff now, Rudie? Pretty slick, eh?"
Rudie's face flushed. He hated to give this Hoyt Dale person any credit
but he had to admit that there was a science to the things he had
taught. It had even given him a thrill to send fellow team mates flying
through the air, knowing that he had done it intentionally, by using a
certain definite system ... a stick between the legs, a knee properly
placed, an elbow in the right spot, a shoulder brought into play and
other sly little tricks designed to disconcert or spill the other
fellow.
"It's all against the rules," Rudie replied, rather lamely, "but I'll
admit it's worth knowing."
"Worth knowing and using at certain times," emphasized Hoyt. "If you
have to choose between letting a man get past you and stopping him from
getting through for a possible score, these little devices are worth
everything! What diff does it make if you _do_ get sent to the penalty
box for two minutes every once in a while?... That's part of the game."
"I suppose it is," Rudie considered, "but, in this case, you're fouling
on purpose ... and the question is...!"
"A foul is a foul!" barked Hoyt. "Why try to distinguish between 'em? A
guy as picayunish as you would find fault with the way they played
'drop-the-handkerchief'...!"
Fellow team members laughed and Rudie held his tongue. He had broken
his resolution to keep silent as it was. What these special
instructions might lead to was problematical but one thing was
certain--Coach Hogart was due for a surprise the next time he saw his
team in action!
* * * * *
Rivals in every other sport, it was natural that Hallstead should place
Parker High on its schedule when the latter school went in for hockey.
If the truth be known, Hallstead's domain in other sports had inspired
Parker to take up the game. Little hope was entertained, however, that
Parker would succeed in downing Hallstead the first year. Parker had a
hard enough time downing Hallstead in anything. But, since Hallstead
seemed prouder of its ice hockey six than any other team, Parker High
adherents impatiently awaited the day when their school might put a
serious challenger in the field.
"If there's any school we enjoy beating, it's Hallstead," declared a
Parker fan. "And are they tough losers? Say, they fight you to the last
ditch in anything! But that's what I call real spirit. Our school ought
to have more of it!"
* * * * *
Underdogs, and very conscious of it, Parker's hockey squad dressed for
the Hallstead game. There was little talking in the locker room, each
player feeling the tension too much to indulge in the usual banter.
"Remember, fellows," whispered Hoyt, just before the team was to leave
the locker room for the ice, "you're just as good as Hallstead. They
can't do anything to you that you can't do to them."
Fellow players nodded, grimly. They had their hearts set on nothing
short of victory. A great showing against Hallstead would do much to
atone for a disappointing season and raise Parker's hockey stock to a
high level for the year to follow. Perhaps school authorities would
even be sufficiently impressed to hire a hockey coach who was an expert
at the game.
"I know you're going to give your best," Coach Hogart told them. "You
boys may not feel that you have accomplished much this season but I,
personally, think you have done wonders this first year. Hallstead is
primed and ready with a veteran six and years of experience behind it.
I understand, too, that Hallstead is noted for a ripping, rushing sort
of game. This ought to be a style well suited to you fellows because
you play clean-cut hockey. If Hallstead isn't careful, some of her
players are apt to be spending most of their time in the penalty box.
That being the case, you boys can be counted on to make the most of
your opportunities during the time that Hallstead may be forced to play
short-handed."
Rudie Antrim, listening to Coach Hogart's final words before the game,
glanced about uneasily at team mates. The good old professor just
didn't have the power to enthuse or excite team members. His pep talks
were punchless, far too much like classroom lectures. And his advice
now seemed a bit out of place. No suggestion as to how Parker might
cope with Hallstead's rough and tumble attack except by playing clean
hockey and taking advantage of possible Hallstead penalties. In between
times, however, Parker was apparently destined to absorb considerable
punishment.
"Coach probably figures, along with everyone else, that we don't stand
a chance," thought Rudie. "Well, I'll have to hand it to Hoyt for one
thing--he's actually got the boys pepped up with the idea that they can
win this game. Hallstead may have it all over us but we're not afraid
of 'em!"
* * * * *
It was a crisply cold afternoon with a chilling breeze which swept the
rink and caused a fair-sized crowd to stamp noisily in the stands.
"This'll have to be a hot game to keep us warm!" punned someone.
"It'll be hot all right," promised a Hallstead rooter. "We're going to
burn up the ice with Parker!"
Chester Maltby, giant Hallstead centre, and noted as one of the state's
star players, looked formidable as he moved up and down the ice in
preliminary practice. Hallstead's season's record was marred only by
two tie games which was scarcely any mar at all. Her players sized the
Parker squad up mirthfully.
"Easy picking," the great Maltby was heard to remark.
"When we get through with 'em they'll be sorry they ever took up
hockey," a fellow player rejoined, and laughed.
* * * * *
At the opening face-off, Hallstead took the puck into Parker territory
immediately. Her forward wall advanced beautifully, brushed past
Parker's wingmen and drove into the defensive zone with Hoyt Dale and
Rudie Antrim crouching low to stop the onslaught. Hoyt charged in fast
and gave one of Hallstead's wingmen a stiff body-check. He went down in
a headlong slide across the ice and the fans cheered. Play veered away
from Hoyt and swept to Rudie's side of the ice.
"Stop 'em!" Hoyt shrieked, banging his stick on the rink.
Rudie blocked, was struck, whirled around, saw the puck beneath his
feet, slashed at it, felt a stick jab between his legs, lost his
balance and was toppled backwards. As he went down the form of Chester
Maltby leaped over him and swung at the puck, now sliding free in the
zone directly in front of Parker's cage.
"A goal!" cried the crowd, as Hallstead's great centre smacked the puck
past goalie Bud Gray into a corner of the net.
Hallstead had counted in the first minute of play!
"Hey!" shouted an outraged Hoyt, skating up and shaking his fist at
Rudie. "What did I tell you the other day? You let them rough you right
out of play. A swell defense man you are! Snap into it! You're playing
too safe! Cut loose!"
Hallstead team members were grinning. They could make a shambles of the
contest if they wanted. But what was the use? Parker was no opposition
in this sport at all. Might as well tease their rivals along. Putting
on a dazzling exhibition of pass work, Hallstead had her rooters
howling with amusement as she forced Parker to chase her all over the
rink, trying to gain possession of the puck. After five minutes of this
superb team play, Hallstead slipped through with intentions of scoring
another goal. And again the pass went to Chester Maltby who was in
position for a shot. This time, however, Chester was blocked--not only
blocked but bowled over by a frenzied dive on the part of Hoyt Dale.
"Off the ice!" ruled the referee and the Hallstead crowd boohed.
"Hold 'em!" Hoyt cried as he got to his feet and skated to the penalty
box.
It was a deliberate foul which had obviously saved almost a sure goal
as Chester had been on top of the net. The puck was faced-off not far
from the cage and a furious mix-up resulted. It was now five men
against Hallstead's six and Parker's entire attention was devoted to
the defense of its goal. Rudie, in the thick of the fight, felt an
elbow thud against his stomach and wondered whether it was accidental.
That was the trouble ... after Hoyt's reference to these things, a
fellow was super conscious of everything that was happening to him ...
trying to figure out when he was being done dirt or whether it was
unintentional. Hallstead figures loomed on both sides of him and the
puck was down there between a tangle of feet and smashing sticks. Why
not try one or two of Hoyt's pet tricks? He was being roughed plenty.
Now, if he could get his stick down ... and shove his foot, just so...!
"Yea!"
The crowd was yelling at Rudie's phenomenal recovery of the puck,
emerging from a wildly struggling group near his goal, upsetting two
Hallstead men as he did so. Rudie skated around behind his own goal,
heart in his mouth, afraid that the referee would call a foul on him.
But the official had evidently thought developments the natural outcome
of the hot skirmish. Besides he, Rudie, had the reputation of an
extremely clean player.
"I got away with it!" he told himself, as he skimmed down along the
sideboards.
The great Maltby cut across the ice with the idea of heading him off.
Rudie saw him coming out of the corner of his eye.
"I'll try another Hoyt stunt," he thought. "Maltby's going to try to
jam me into the boards. If I can only stop dead and let him shoot past,
then shoulder him...!"
Rudie set his skates in the ice; Maltby almost on top of him, hurtled
past, smacked up against the sideboards, rebounded and was hit jokingly
by the man he had pursued. Maltby went down in a thudding heap and
Rudie recaptured the puck, continuing his dash down the ice with Parker
rooters going crazy.
"This is a cinch!" Rudie told himself, exultantly. "Hoyt was a hundred
percent right ... this knowing how to take care of yourself ...
out-roughing the other fellow ... is what counts in this game!"
Hallstead's defense men were rushing back into position, having been in
Parker's territory, trying to help their team score a second goal.
Rudie, seeing them almost upon him, fired a shot at the goal but the
puck was caught by the broad blade of the goalie's stick and shoved to
the side. Here Ed Compton and Lee Burrell, Parker wings, lunged in and
did battle with the defense men for possession of the little black
disc. As they did so, Hoyt's two minute penalty was up and he came
flashing out of the box to aid team-mates who had been carrying the
attack to an astounded Hallstead. Ed got the puck away from a Hallstead
man behind the Hallstead cage, and made a perfect pass-out to Rudie who
had roamed in the front area. Rudie blazed away at once and sent the
puck whizzing past Hallstead's goal tender, waist high, for the goal
that tied the score, 1 to 1.
"Good boy!" shouted Hoyt, skating up to slap Rudie on the back. "Now
you're getting the idea! That was great stuff the way you fought your
way down the ice!"
Rudie nodded as he skated back into position with the crowd cheering
him. If a fellow didn't care what he did, just played with abandon, it
was surprising what he could accomplish. "Cut loose!" as Hoyt had said.
Rudie had done this for the first time. Result--one of the few goals he
had ever made in actual play.
"A referee overlooks an awful lot," Rudie decided, "and maybe I was too
strict on what I thought constituted a foul anyhow."
With things breaking one's way, it was easy to salve one's conscience.
And now his team members were plunging in as the next face-off occurred
at centre, using what Hoyt had taught them as the occasion demanded. A
spectacular game materialized as this sort of play kept up with members
of both teams crashing into the sideboards or taking dizzy spills.
There were processions to the penalty box, about evenly divided up as
first one individual, then another, was ruled out for two minute
periods. And still Rudie led a charmed life; hurling himself into the
fray at every opportunity but escaping without penalty. Several times,
no less a personage that the great Maltby was sent to the sidelines for
fouling Rudie who had fouled him likewise.
"You've got it wrong, umps!" Maltby had protested on the last trip. "He
should have come along with me! That guy...!"
The first period ended in a tie score and the Parker team, having
suddenly found itself, skated from the rink to the roars of the crowd.
This might prove to be a real contest after all!
"Boys, you're simply splendid!" Coach Hogart greeted them. "A little
rougher than I've ever seen you--but perfectly splendid!"
The old professor was greatly excited. He did not observe Hoyt's wise
wink behind his back, nor the amused grins on several faces. But, by
the end of the furiously contested second period, when Hallstead and
Parker players almost came to blows over alleged bits of unnecessary
roughness, Coach Hogart sensed definitely that a change had come over
his boys ... a change which disturbed him not a little....
"Watch yourselves," he warned. "You've held Hallstead to a tie score
thus far but you've made more trips to the penalty box than in any
three other games this year. It's going to be your downfall if you keep
it up ... mark my words!"
"Mark his words!" laughed Hoyt, as the team took the ice for the third
and last period. "Professor Hogart means well but he's no coach! and he
never will be. I guess you guys realize now how this game should be
played."
Fellow players nodded.
"We've got the fighting spirit today," said Rudie. "That's what's doing
more for us than anything else!"
"We've got more than that," rejoined Hoyt. "We've got what Hallstead
doesn't like--an answer for everything they pull on us! We've spilled
old Maltby so much that it's slowed his whole game up. The same stuff,
gang--and we'll worry the life out of this outfit!"
* * * * *
Hallstead, surprised and miffed at the unusually stiff brand of
opposition Parker was putting up, took the ice at the start of the
third period resolved to go out in front and stay there. But Parker met
the new attack with increased resistance and the crowd sat breathless
as formation after formation was broken up by one side or the other,
the puck changing hands with bewildering rapidity. Hallstead, Rudie now
decided, was playing rough but fair hockey. Parker, however, was
employing the practices taught by Hoyt when play came to close
quarters. As the pressure of the contest grew hotter and hotter, these
little devices became more obvious.
"Careful, fellows!" Rudie couldn't help warning, during a time-out.
"You're going too far in a minute. I've never felt right about this ...
we've got a chance for the game if...!"
"You're okay!" broke in Hoyt. "Going great guns! Keep it up!"
Hoyt looked to Captain Walt Lowery for support and got it, in an
approving nod. Victory over Hallstead was the bait--an unbelievable
victory! There were just six more minutes of play. The game might go
into overtime...!
Mustering his forces, Chester Maltby, great Hallstead centre, sallied
determinedly into Parker territory, determined to crack her defense
wide open. With wingmen on either side of him and a defense man joining
in the attack, forming a four-man forward wall, the advance began.
"Look out, gang!" shouted Hoyt, and braced himself for the impact.
Maltby feinted a pass as he raced down upon Hoyt with the puck riding
along at the end of his stick, then veered at the last moment and
attempted to get around Parker's left defense. Hoyt, thrown off guard,
could not apply his usual body-check and had only time to ram his stick
out. The stick caught Maltby between the legs and catapulted him.
"Booh!" roared Hallstead fans. "Take him out!"
"A major penalty for you!" shrilled the referee, skating over and
pushing Hoyt to the sidelines. "Five minutes for this man!" he called
to the timers.
"What for?" demanded Hoyt, registering innocence. "I only tried to get
the puck. I...!"
"I've been watching you the whole game," flashed the referee. "You've
pulled that stunt once too often!"
"Wow--maybe that penalty doesn't hurt!" moaned a Parker rooter, as
Hoyt, still protesting, slid into the penalty box. "He's out for
practically the rest of the game which shoots our defense and breaks up
our attack."
Parker team members glanced concernedly at one another as a fighting
Hallstead lined up close to Parker's goal for a face-off.
"You see--it doesn't pay!" cried Rudie.
"Shut up!" blazed Captain Lowery, who was on edge. "Get in there! Don't
let 'em score!"
The referee dropped the puck to ice. It was lost almost at once in the
mad turmoil which followed. Goalie Bud Gray did heroic work in warding
off a rain of vicious shots. But still Hallstead kept battering with
Parker fighting the harder to atone for the loss of their defense men.
A cry went up as two Hallstead players were bumped to the ice in front
of the net.
"Off the ice--you and you!" barked the referee, and slapped two Parker
players on the back--Left Wing Lee Burrell and Captain Walt Lowery!
"It's three against six now!" gasped a spectator. "What's the matter
with Parker? I've never seen so much fouling!"
A scowling Hoyt Dale moved over to make room for his two team-mates in
the penalty box.
"This is not so good," were Captain Lowery's first words.
"The ref's got it in for us because I kicked when he put me out," Hoyt
rejoined.
"You're wrong!" returned Walt, remorsefully. "He's just gotten wise to
us, that's all! We put up a game like this and then have to lose it
on...!"
"... fouls!" finished Lee, feelingly. "Swell advice you gave us,
Hoyt!... We ought to have known better!"
"We're not licked yet," retorted Parker's left defense, hopefully, and
made a megaphone of his hands. "Stay with 'em, Rudie--big boy--careful
in there--don't let 'em put you in the penalty box!"
Rudie, who had been conferring with his two remaining team-mates, right
wing Ed Compton and goalie Bud Gray, looked toward the three deposed
players in astonishment.
"What did he say?" he asked of Ed.
"They're all shouting now," said Ed. "Telling us to play it safe so we
won't make any fouls ... and hold 'em till they get back in the game!"
"Can you beat it?" exclaimed Rudie, and grinned.
But the referee was calling another face-off not far from Parker's net
and Hallstead had all five men down the ice--five actually against
two--in an effort to jam the puck home while Parker was so severely
handicapped.
"Listen, fellows!" pleaded Rudie, of Ed and Bud. "Hoyt's had his say
now and you see where it's gotten us. Here's our chance to show what
can be done--on the square. Are you with me?"
"Sure we're with you!" cried Bud, crouching in the mouth of the cage.
"All the way!" seconded Ed.
And the battle was on! Rudie was knocked off his feet, stepped on, hit
with sticks and swarmed over as five Hallstead men sought to get the
puck from under him. He finally recovered his feet and sent the puck
whizzing up the ice out of danger. Hallstead chased it, took on another
formation, and came dashing back on the attack, five men abreast, with
only two Parker men to face the charge. This time it was Ed who went
down under flashing Hallstead heels and only Rudie was left to battle
the invaders. He was shoved into the cage in a furious assault, wedged
in alongside goalie Bud Gray, but--between them--they kicked the puck
free.
"What hockey!" Hoyt was screaming. "That's holding 'em, you guys!"
"They can't keep this up much longer!" said Captain Lowery, nervously.
"How many seconds are we out of play yet?"
"Fifty!" informed Lee, who sat next the timer, biting finger nails
already chewed to the quick. "Gee, this last minute's been an hour!"
Once more, led by Chester Maltby, Hallstead rallied to the attack. And
once more two valiant Parker men, fighting with a frenzy equal to five,
met the rush head-on. But both went down under jolting impacts and
goalie Bud Gray was left to face the onslaught alone. He was met,
however, by a wave of blue-jerseyed men and was pulled to the side on
blocking a shot so that the puck was whizzed past him on the rebound.
"Goal disallowed!" shrieked the referee, tearing into the mix-up in
front of the net and tapping Chester Maltby on the shoulder. "Penalty
box for you," he signified, "and you...!" referring to the Hallstead
right defense. A great clamor went up as the two Hallstead players
joined an already crowded penalty box. Out on the ice, Ed and Rudie
solemnly shook hands. They were still in the thick of the fight and now
the competition was almost even again ... three against two. But Lee
and Walt were due back on the ice now, any second, which would swing
the advantage in Parker's favor. And less than two minutes of the
regular playing time remained!
A new face-off with Rudie opposing the Hallstead right wing. He managed
to get his stick on the puck and hook it away. As he skated to the side
with Hallstead players in pursuit, he saw Lee and Walt tumbling out of
the penalty box and rushing back into play. Changing his defensive
tactics at once, Rudie suddenly raced up the ice toward Hallstead's
goal, leaving two frantic Hallstead men behind him. The third, playing
back on defense, took his station in front of the goalie and awaited
Rudie's attack. Lee and Walt, however, were joining Rudie from the
side, spanking their sticks on the ice. The puck skimmed across to them
and all three swung into formation, sweeping in upon the under-guarded
Hallstead goal. Ed to Rudie to Walt was the course the puck took as the
trio neared the cage. Rudie was violently body-checked by the lone
defense man but Walt was left free to skate in upon the goalie and sent
the puck hurtling into the net.
"A goal!" scored the referee.
Hallstead sat thunderstruck; Parker supporters made the air warm with
lusty shouts. In another minute a dope bucket would be violently upset.
Hoyt Dale now leaned forward in the penalty box, his five minute
suspension almost up. In another three seconds he was back on the ice,
Parker's full strength returned, with Hallstead still shy her two
regulars.
"No monkey business!" warned Captain Lowery.
"Don't worry!" a chastened Hoyt assured. "They don't get me in that
penalty box again!"
And the next instant the game was over.
"Rudie, old timer!" cried the fellow who had thought he knew more than
the coach. "I take back everything I ever said against you. That
defense you put up was simply immense ... and it was me who put you in
that hole...!"
"It's okay now," said Rudie, as he glanced at the scoreboard.
"Oh, no it's not," replied Hoyt, as guilty looking team members
gathered around. "I owe all you guys an apology. All we've needed is
more fight. And speaking of fair play--say, after my starting you off
on the wrong foot, Rudie and Lee had me scared stiff. I was afraid
they'd join us in the penalty box and leave only poor Bud out there to
defend the goal! Did I suffer torture?... I threw my ideas overboard
right then. They're all wet!"
"I'll say they are!" agreed Captain Walt Lowery, with a supporting
chorus. "You can get by with this stuff just so long and after
that--you're out of luck!"
It was here that an elated Coach Hogart burst in upon them. "Your play
was magnificent!" he cried. "Everyone of you fairly outdid himself.
You're all to be congratulated!"
Parker High's victorious team members grinned, looked a bit sheepishly
at one another and decided to say nothing. What the old professor, who
had loyally volunteered to coach them, didn't know, wouldn't hurt him,
because it was never going to happen again.