The Boys of Columbia High on the Ice
by Graham B. Forbes
Chapter 8
2012081The Boys of Columbia High on the Ice — Chapter 8Graham B. Forbes

CHAPTER VIII


UP AGAINST THE OUTCAST SEVEN


"They're off!" shouted a dozen enthusiastic spectators, as Frank by a quick swoop of his stick managed to get the puck away from his opponent, and sent it spinning over the smooth ice in the direction of the goal of his opponents.

Instantly all was commotion. Players darted this way and that to fill their respective positions, and the clash of meeting sticks sounded furiously, as several endeavored to hook the little hard rubber disc away from the melee.

"Look at Lef play! Like old times to see that dash!" shouted one fellow.

And indeed, Lef was just then showing that he knew the game from start to finish. Two years back he had been a brilliant player, and only his love for unfair methods had uncrowned him. Still, many remembered that for a time he had been without a rival on the ice; and his present work startled them.

THE CLASH OF MEETING STICKS SOUNDED FURIOUSLY.

Page 76.

Boys of Columbia High on the Ice.


"Bully for the Wanderers! They're going to make you hustle some, boys! Look at that for a clean steal, would you! Wake up, there, Lanky; don't go to sleep yet! Plenty of time after you get yours!"

Of course the backers of Lef's team, while not numerous, were exceedingly noisy, and there were times when it seemed as though the Columbias might have invaded the enemy's country, such was the clamor against them.

"It's going in the net!" shrieked one looker-on, as with a tremendous blow Klemm sent the puck speeding along.

"Will it—maybe, maybe not," jeered Jack Eastwick, who as a possible substitute, was hovering near the outside of the lines.

"Hey! what you doing there, West? Leave that rubber alone, will you?" howled some one, when the defender of the Columbia goal met the flying puck with a well-aimed crack that ended the suspense temporarily, and hurled it back toward the centre of the ice.

Like spokes leading toward the hub of a wheel, flitting figures shot toward the object of interest. A stick was thrust out to intercept its progress, and again a furious fight for the possession of the coveted puck was on.

Loud rang the voices of the referee and his assistant, calling upon this one and then that to mind the rules, as they were playing "off-side," and could not legally take part in the fight until relieved from the penalty.

Of course this came almost instantly, for as soon as the puck had been brought in contact with the stick of any opposing player, the penalty was off. Still, it required a quick eye and a ready voice to handle all these things.

Three times did the aggressive Wanderers have the goal of the regular team threatened. In all these instances it was only the wonderful playing of Ralph West that saved the day. He seemed to be as nimble as a gymnast, and his eye was absolutely perfect when it came to judgment.

Then the tide of battle turned. Now it was the Columbia High School team that bore down heavily on their opponents. They had waited their time, and taken stock of what Lef and his crowd had to offer. Frank had given the secret signal that meant aggressive tactics, and every player of the orange and purple girded himself for real work.

"Back up, fellows! Don't let 'em push you along!" shrieked Lef, as he saw that his followers were being finally outgeneraled by the tactics of the well-drilled Columbias, and his goal in danger.

Suddenly a wild shout went up. Columbia had scored the first goal, Lanky Wallace having sent the puck past the guard of Kline, and landed it safely in the net.

"Face the puck again!" sang out the umpire; so it was accordingly brought once more to the centre of the field, with two of the players holding the base of their stout sticks against it, ready to let go at the word.

This time Frank allowed Lanky to stand up with Lef. He believed his chum would be able to out-point the cleverness Lef had frequently shown in getting possession of the puck in the start.

With the resumption of play there was a scramble for the rubber disc. Lanky and Lef fought tooth and nail with their sticks to scratch it out of its position between them; while the other players hovered near, ready to seize upon it like a flash, and bear it along toward goal.

Lef was terribly in earnest. His eyes looked furiously at those of his opponent, and under his breath he was undoubtedly muttering words that partook of the nature of threats. But Lanky had accomplished his part, for it allowed Shadduck to suddenly strike in, and with a blow send the puck out of its prison, and a dozen feet along the ice.

Lef immediately began to shower the Columbia point with abuse for interference, and appealed wildly to the referee, who laughingly held up his hand to indicate that it was perfectly legal to play robber on such an occasion.

Meanwhile, none of the other players had remained to hear Lef protest. They were all too much interested in gaining control of the destinies of that sliding object, that caromed over the ice so easily. Down upon it pounced a group from either side, and there was a scrimmage that made all others up to date look weak.

Lef, finding that his protest was not going to be allowed, wasted no more time in idle talk, but sallied forth, looking for a chance to get into the fight.

Louder sounded the warnings from the two referees. The nomads were beginning to show their true nature, and seeking to gain unfair advantages. Presently the gentleman who officiated as referee called the game for a minute.

"See here, Gilpin, if you attempt foul tactics like that again I shall surely be compelled to put you out of the game!" he declared, sternly.

"What did I do?" whined Tony, trying to brazen it out.

"Ask Comfort why he's limping. You struck him without the slightest reason," returned the official, shaking his finger at the culprit, warningly.

"Well, it was an accident; he was over on my side and the rules say when a player does that he takes Uis own risk," said the point of the outcast club.

"You are saying what you know to be false, and I could prove it by showing the mark of your stick on his shin. That would settle which side he was on. Be careful not to repeat the offense, or out you go! Face the puck again now!"

"But the advantage was ours when you stopped play!" protested Lef, seeing a new cause for complaint.

"That matters nothing. The puck must be faced in the centre of the field at the commencement of each period, after each goal scored, and whenever there has been a halt called in the play, if the referee so decides. I put the puck back to centre as a penalty for one of your side playing foul tactics, and willfully seeking to injure one of the opposing team. Let it be a warning that such conduct cannot be tolerated."

Lef looked at the referee. Then he stared around at his players.

"He's going to quit!" shouted some one, close by.

"Same old game; if he can't have everything he wants, he won't play!"

"Poor old Lef; he's in hard luck all the time. Say, don't try the baby act, old boy! You and your crowd are putting up a good article of hockey. Keep it up, and perhaps the luck will change!"

Lef decided to stick it out. At any rate, perhaps he might find a chance to get in some crooked work himself. Tony Gilpin was only a crude bungler at the best, and might have known he would be seen in trying to smash the Columbia cover point on the shin.

So he once again settled down, with Lanky opposing him. The Columbia player did not attempt the same style of play as before, in order to get possession of the coveted disc. Instead, he instantly began a furious attack, and taking Lef off his guard managed to steal the disputed object away despite the other's almost frantic efforts to hold on.

Again it was carried dangerously near the goal of the Wanderers, by dribbling and bold dashes. Circling hither and thither, Frank, who had taken the rubber in charge, dodged the attacks of the enemy, and when he reached the limit of his power to make good, by an adroit push he sent it past the unprepared Barnes to the charge of Bird, who made a terrific shoot for goal.

"Wow! another point for Columbia! Now, what d'ye think of that?" howled the loud-voiced enthusiast, who turned out to be the drug clerk, Socrates Jones.

Kline had been beguiled aside by a threatening shoot, and could not get back in time to cover his net, so that even as he made a desperate attempt to reach out and intercept the puck it shot past and between the goal posts. The umpire located behind the net announced to the time-keepers that a second goal had been fairly scored for Columbia.

Lef started to protest in a loud voice. He even declared that at the time Bird shot that goal he had been playing off-side, and hence it should not count. Every one knew that this was not true, and that Lef only made the protest so as to have a shred of excuse when defeat finally came.

"He's lost his case, and now plays to get costs; or offers objections, so as to get another trial," declared Lanky, his law training causing him to see things that might escape the eyes of others.

The score was now two to nothing. Not that Lef and his followers were not putting up a good game, for they frequently caused their opponents to fight desperately in order to keep them from scoring. Lack of practice had something to do with their demoralization; that and the innate desire to play foul that seemed to be the leading characteristic of every member of the outcast team.

Among the spectators this was anticipated. Lef had never been known to do the right thing when the tide of battle went against him. Presently he would begin to show his real nature; and many of the spectators kept watching him in the expectation of witnessing his trickery if possible.

Just as the first twenty-minute period of play came to an end the puck was hustled into the net for a third goal on the side of Frank's team. Cheers resounded from all sides. Those who favored the outcast seven scowled, or laughed as the humor seized them.

"Didn't expect anything else," remarked one fellow near Frank, as the sides rested before starting on the second half; "they done pretty good as it was. Wait and see what Lef does to 'em this time. He's got somethin' up his sleeve, you bet!"

"Course he has. Lef he's a cute one, all right," answered another of the same stripe, with a leer at Frank.

That was a nice prospect, when even the crowd expected some gross exhibition of foul play on the part of the opposing team.

"The chances are three to one the game will be called," said Frank, as he took the field with his men, the ten minute intermission having ended.

"They look ugly enough to eat us alive," remarked Ralph West, as he stopped at his position in front of the Columbia goal which he had defended so valiantly that the enemy tried in vain to enter.

This time Frank faced Lef when the puck was laid upon the ice. Eye looked into eye. That of Lef wavered a trifle, despite his bullying ways. He knew that he had done many things in the past to injure Frank Allen, and the dauntless front of the Other seemed to warn him that the day of reckoning must assuredly be near at hand.

"Play!" came the command of the referee.

This time Lef tried one of his old tricks that had served him well on many a former occasion during the time when he was undisputed champion of hockey among the boys of Columbia. But it would seem that he had lost his cunning; or else the times had sadly changed, for after a brief struggle Frank carried off the puck, and skated around the end of the opposing line like a streak of light, dribbling the rubber before him.

Hot and furious was the rush after him. Close to the danger line for the outcasts the contest moved, with sticks flying and figures darting in and out, like shuttles in the hands of expert weavers; while high above all the clamor the whistle of the referee sounded either warnings or a sudden cessation of play.

Barnes was put out of the game for foul tactics so plain that fifty people sent up a groan as he made the play. Lef showed signs of temper; but the game went on.

Five minutes later another stop came in the midst of a scrimmage. This time it was Shadduck who was hurt, and had to have his left hand bound up, as it bled freely.

"The next infraction of the rules ends the game!" declared the referee, sternly, for he had been warned that the main object of Lef and his crowd was to cripple the Columbia players, rather than to win out.

Two goals for Columbia followed in rapid order, one going to Frank, and the other being placed to the credit of Shay.

Then in a fracas Frank was seen to suddenly topple over.

"What happened?" cried fully fifty voices, as excitement reigned.

"Lef did it—he threw back his stick over his head, and cracked Frank! It may have been an accident or not; but that ends the game all right," answered Socrates Jones.