FIRST BLOOD FOR YARDLEY
January dragged past and examinations came to an end with no serious
results for any of these in whom we are interested. The hockey team
defeated Greenburg easily, lost to Carrel’s school, 3 to 7, won from
Warren Hall, 18 to 2, and finished the month with a well-played game
in which the Yale Freshmen took its measure to the tune of 12 to 4.
All the month the ice remained in perfect condition, although the team
was kept pretty busy shoveling snow from the rink. Dan had settled
down into his game at goal and, while he still pretended that Alf had
persuaded him to join the team in the hope of having him killed, he
enjoyed it all hugely and was fast developing into a strong and steady
player. Gerald still adorned the edge of the ice most of the time,
although in the Warren game he played part of one half and, being
opposed to fellows not much heavier than he, played rather well and had
two goals to his credit.
Basket ball had its devotees and regularly twice a week Yardley met an
opponent. So far Tom’s team had been defeated but twice and had played
seven games. The first Broadwood game had resulted in a tie at 17 to
17, although three extra periods had been played. Yardley had won the
second contest at Broadwood by a decisive score, 22 to 12, and the
third meeting, which it was hoped would decide the championship, was
due in a week. Gerald was the only one of our friends who accompanied
the basket ball team to New York on the thirtieth. It had been his
custom since Thanksgiving to spend Sunday in the city with his father,
and as there was no hope of his getting into the hockey game with the
Yale Freshmen that afternoon, he elected to accompany Tom and the team
to New York. The team met defeat after a hard battle and from the
up-town gymnasium, in which the contest had taken place, Gerald walked
down to his home, only a few blocks distant. When he returned to school
early Monday morning February had arrived with mild weather. The next
day, under the influence of a south wind and warm sunlight, the ice on
the rink began to soften and rot, and, although the team managed to
hold practice that afternoon, it proved to be the last for over a week.
The Nordham game, set for the sixth, had to be cancelled and Alf went
around like a bear with a sore head.
It was about this time that the Pennimore Cup arrived. Alf and Dan and
Gerald walked down to the express office one noon and bore it back in
triumph. They opened the box in Dan’s room, and after sprinkling the
floor with excelsior, drew the cup from its flannel bag and viewed it
with delight. It was of silver, some ten inches in height and most
elaborately designed. On one side, in relief, were three figures of
hockey players scrimmaging for the puck. On the other side was the
raised inscription “Pennimore Cup for Hockey――Won By,” and below it a
shield for recording the winners’ names. There were two curving handles
in the form of hockey sticks and flag poles from which the rival
banners of Yardley and Broadwood swept away around the rim of the cup.
The inside was gilded and there was an ebony base to set it on. They
placed it on the table and gazed at it enrapturedly.
“It’s the handsomest cup I ever saw!” said Dan.
“It’s a――a peach!” said Alf. “Gerald, your dad was certainly good to
us.”
“I wish he could see it,” murmured Gerald.
“He will, for it’s going to stay right here at Yardley,” declared Alf.
“We’ve just _got_ to win that, Dan!”
“You bet we have!”
“You look after it to-night and to-morrow we’ll take it over to
Greenburg and get Proctor to exhibit it in his window for a week or so;
that will give the Broadwood fellows a chance to see it.”
“I hope they’ll never get a better chance,” said Dan.
News of the trophy’s arrival was soon about school and during the
evening there was a steady stream of visitors invading No. 28, and the
following day Alf and Gerald and Dan took the cup to Greenburg and
arranged with the amiable Mr. Proctor to place it in his window. Mr.
Proctor conducted the principal book and stationery store and held
the trade of both schools. Alf wrote an explanatory card to be placed
with the cup: “Pennimore Cup, the gift of Mr. John T. Pennimore, to be
contested for at hockey by Broadwood and Yardley, and to become the
permanent possession of the school winning two out of three games.”
Then they went out on the sidewalk and blocked traffic while they had a
good look at it.
“Bet you that will make Broadwood’s eyes stick out,” said Alf. “Let’s
wait here awhile until some Broadwoods come along and hear what they
say.”
“Don’t you suppose they’d know who you are, you silly chump?” laughed
Dan. “Come on home.”
“Not until I’ve had a hot chocolate,” returned Alf firmly, moving away
from the window with a lingering look at the silver cup. “Want one? My
treat.”
“In that case we’ll each take two,” answered Dan.
“I’ll have an egg-and-chocolate,” said Gerald.
“Why?” asked Dan innocently. “Is it more?”
“You dry up or you won’t get anything,” said Alf as he ushered them
through the door of the drug store. “Two hot chocolates and an
egg-and-chocolate, please,” he announced to the clerk at the fountain.
“Hold on a bit,” interrupted Dan soberly. “I haven’t decided what mine
is.” He looked about at the signs dangling in front of him. “‘Walnut
Fudge Sundæ’; what do you suppose that is, Alf?”
“I don’t know, but it’s too cold for ice-cream things.”
“That’s so. Let me see, then. ‘Hot Malted Milk’; that won’t do; I had
to take that once when I had a cold and the doctor wouldn’t let me eat
real food.”
“Oh, hurry up, can’t you?” begged Alf. “Have a hot choc――――”
“Ah! There it is, I’ll bet! ‘Hot Celery Wine’; sounds wicked, doesn’t
it? Hot Celery Wine’s the drink for mine; it’s strong and fine and
makes you shine――――”
“Give it to him!” Alf exploded. “Give him a fried egg with it and let
him have a real party!”
“No, no, I guess Hot Celery Wine would be too strong. I’ll have a hot
chocolate.”
The clerk, visibly amused, served the order and added a little dish of
sweet crackers, and the boys removed their repast to one of the small
tables near by from where they could view the street through the big
window.
“There are some Broadwoods now,” said Alf, “looking at the cup. I’d
like to hear what they’re saying.” Dan leaned past him so that he could
see Proctor’s window.
“The big fellow is Rhodes, their full back,” he said. “Here come a
couple of them over here.”
The two Broadwood fellows entered, ordered raspberry college ices, and
sat down at a table a few feet distant. They had recognized Alf at
once and possibly Dan, but they strove to hide the fact.
“What did you think of it?” asked one.
“Oh, not so bad,” was the reply. “Of course it isn’t really silver; you
can see that quick enough.”
“Of course,” replied the other scornfully. “Probably tin, don’t you
think?”
“Or pewter. They’re using pewter a good deal for cups.”
“Ugly shape, isn’t it? I suppose, though, that Yardley thinks it’s
quite wonderful. I guess they don’t see many cups over there.”
They laughed softly and bent over their ices in order to exchange
glances. Gerald was angry clean through and Alf was scowling into the
bottom of his glass.
“Who’s this fellow Pennimore?” asked one of the Broadwood lads.
“He’s a rich guy that lives over on the point. He’s got a son at
Yardley. The kid tried to get into Broadwood but couldn’t pass, and
they say the old man promised to pay off the school debt at Yardley if
they’d take the kid. Anyhow, he’s there.”
Gerald set his glass down and started to his feet with blazing cheeks,
but Dan’s hand went out and caught his arm.
“No, you don’t,” said Dan firmly. “You sit down again.”
“But――――”
“You sit down!” Gerald obeyed. Alf had stopped frowning. He finished
his chocolate, wiped his lips with the little paper napkin and leaned
across smilingly to Dan.
“You and Gerald walk to the door,” he said softly, “and be ready to get
away quick.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Dan.
“Well, I’m not going to touch them, if that’s what you mean,” answered
Alf. “Go ahead and I’ll follow.”
Dan and Gerald arose and sauntered toward the door, the Broadwood boys
observing them uneasily, although defiantly. Alf took up the three
empty glasses and started toward the counter. To reach it he had to
pass the table occupied by the Broadwood fellows, and as he did so he
stumbled, fell against the table and sent the college ices to the tiled
floor where the cups broke and their contents splashed about for yards.
One of the boys saved the table from going over and both jumped angrily
to their feet.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Sorry,” answered Alf indifferently, “but you ought to keep your feet
out of the way.”
“Our feet weren’t in your way! You did it on purpose!”
“How absurd,” said Alf haughtily, as the clerk hurried up with towels.
“As though I would intentionally upset the table. I have more respect
for cups than you have.”
He sauntered over to the counter, set his glasses down and joined Dan
and Gerald at the door. The Broadwood boys were excitedly explaining to
the proprietor who had followed his clerk to the scene. Dan and Gerald
and Alf slipped quietly out of the door, trying hard to keep sober
countenances. But once out of sight of the window they hugged each
other ecstatically and laughed to their heart’s content.
“They’ll have to pay for damages,” gurgled Alf, “and I’ll bet they
haven’t got fifty cents between them!”
“Maybe Wallace will get after us for it,” said Dan.
“Oh, no, he won’t. He isn’t taking any chances. He’s got those chaps
and he knows he may not see us again. Besides, he wouldn’t suspect for
a moment that I’d do a thing like that on purpose! Perish the thought!
First bloodshed in the conflict for the Pennimore Cup results in a
Yardley victory! Ex-tra! Ex-tra!”