Another week rolled around, and once again school had closed for theSaturday and Sunday period of rest from studies.
It seemed as though luck favored the young people of Scranton this season, so far as fair weather went. There had been no snowfall of consequence during the entire week; and now Saturday opened with fair skies, as if inviting them to go forth and enjoy themselves to their full bent.
The great hockey game with Belleville High was to take place in the neighboring town, as Captain Kramer (known far and wide simply as "O. K.," because those were his initials) had drawn the long straw in settling this matter with Hugh, and was, therefore, given the choice of territory, according to custom.
Really no one in Scranton was sorry. They had held the last match there on the new rink, and could not expect to have a monopoly of these happenings all through the season. Besides, they had a splendid lake over at Belleville, which would be considerable of an attraction to the young people of Scranton, whom fortune had not treated so kindly, since they had formerly been compelled to trudge several miles to Hobson's mill-pond when they wished to skate, swim, or fish; though now, of course, they had the newly flooded area in the baseball park for diversion.
A great many went over to Belleville in every manner of vehicle. Sleighs were in great demand, but, besides these, cars could be seen by dozens on the highroad leading to the rival town, situated some ten miles away.
It must needs be something over which they had no control that could keep any Scranton High boy or girl away from Belleville that Saturday morning. The very atmosphere seemed to be charged with electricity, and was calling them to hasten away, to join the throngs already pouring forth, bent on giving encouragement to those gallant young athletes representing their school, who had as yet not tasted of defeat on the ice that season.
The lake just outside of Belleville was quite extensive, and could not be insulted with the name of "pond," for it ran at least a mile in length, and half that in width.
While the ice was no longer as smooth as had earlier been, the case, still it seemed in fair condition. Besides, the Belleville boys had managed to flood that section to be given over as a rink; and ordinary skaters were warned to keep off, so that it might not be all "cut up" with sharp runners before the match was started.
The Belleville team looked dangerous. They were, of course, pretty much the same fellows whom Scranton High had met the preceding summer on the baseball diamond; some of them had also taken part in the athletic tournament late in the Fall, accounts of which events will be found duly chronicled in earlier volumes of this series.
When all the preliminaries had been settled good-naturedly, the rival teams lined up to hear the last instructions of the referee. This party was the same gentleman who had officiated with such satisfaction in the game with Keyport on the preceding Saturday.
Here is the list of players, and the positions they occupied, Scranton having kept the identical Seven with which the last game had been so cleverly won, though many people were of the opinion they had a much more difficult proposition before them in the Belleville boys:
Scranton HighPositionBellevilleStevens ……… Goal ………… LeonardHobson ………. Point ……….. WrightDanvers ……… Cover Point …… "O. K." KramerSmith ……….. Right End …….. GouldDugdale ……… Center ……….. WatermanMorgan ………. Rover ………… ConwayJuggins ……… Left End ……… Haggerty
The game had hardly begun before Hugh realized that those Belleville fellows had determined to down the visitors, if it took every ounce of strenuous ability they possessed. Previous defeats at the hands of Scranton High rankled in their hearts, and they were grimly resolved, "to do or die," as one of them told Thad Stevens while chatting before the game was called.
They made a whirlwind beginning, and had scored two goals before the visitors began to "find" themselves. This would never do, Hugh determined. He gave his players a signal that called for a spurt, and himself led the way by capturing the puck, and shooting it into the cage of their opponents amidst loud footings of great joy from the loyal and now anxious Scranton rooters.
Juggins distinguished himself also immediately afterwards by a lightning play that amazed the Belleville spectators. He dodged all interference and when finally too hard pressed, managed to send the rubber disc across to Dugdale, who continued the good work by shooting it into the charge of Hobson; and, almost before Leonard could try to stop its flight, it had gone with a crash into the cage for the second goal on Scranton's side.
Things began to look brighter. If Belleville could play brilliant hockey through the coaching of an efficient instructor, the visiting team knew a few things also, which were calculated to surprise their rivals.
Of course, most, if not all of the Belleville Seven had attended the game on the preceding Saturday, their own match for that day, which they had easily won, coming off in the afternoon. Consequently, they had studied the methods of the Scranton boys, and believed they would be able to profit by their knowledge later on.
But Hugh had been wise to this fact, and posted Mr. Leonard, the coach; who, meanwhile, taught them a few new little wrinkles that were calculated to disturb the calculations of Belleville when the time came for the meeting. As in football, ice hockey presents a fruitful field for diplomacy and clever tactics; and the wisest general usually manages to carry his team to victory over those who may be much more nimble skaters and even smarter with their sticks, but not so able in the line of strategy.
Belleville also took a "hunch," as some of the boys called it, and again forged to the front. Indeed, they scored three times against one more goal for the visitors; and when the first half of the match had been finished the game stood at five to three against Scranton.
Hugh was in a dilemma. He knew that to win out he must have an infusion of new blood, for those husky players of the local school were too rapid for the Scranton boys. But, according to the rules of the game, substitutes can only be allowed in case of serious injury. So, unless one of his player chanced to be hurt in such a way as to necessitate his withdrawal from the game there could be no changes made in the line-up.
This is so hedged about with safeguards against fraud that even if a player is hurt he must be examined by someone competent to say whether he may be able to commence work again inside of seven minutes; and if so, the game must proceed. Should he be excused from further participation in the contest his captain may have the privilege of putting in another man; or, if he chooses to play with only six on the ice, the other side must also eliminate a player, so as to make the line-up equal.
Perhaps some of Hugh's comrades must have guessed what was gripping their leader around that time. Nothing else could have induced Smith, for instance, to say, as he did to Hugh, while they were resting in preparation for the last half of the game to start in:
"I'm awfully ashamed of that rotten run I made, Hugh, when you handed me the rubber so handsomely. If I'd known my business as I should I'd have landed it in the wire cage as snug as anything. But I fumbled, and that Conway got it away from me, the robber. I'm no good, Hugh; and I'd give a heap if only you could kick me out of the game, and get a better substitute."
"It can't be done, Just," Hugh told him; "a player has to be pretty badly hurt to be dropped, you know, and a substitute taken on. Cheer up, and get a fresh start. Two goals shouldn't be a hard job for us to tackle, once we get going at our old pace. There are a few tricks left in the bag still, before we reach the bottom."
"But, see here, I'm pretty lame at that, after the stumble and fall I had, Hugh," said "Just" Smith eagerly; "perhaps the referee would let me throw up my job if he saw how badly my shin has been scraped."
"Oh! you're in pretty good shape still, 'Just,' and you know it," remarked Hugh, smiling at the evident determination of his friend to sacrifice himself for the general good. "When we start play again we'll try the last dodge Mr. Leonard taught us, and see if it'll work for a goal. It's clean sport, and nothing tricky, you know."
So "Just" Smith shrugged his shoulders, and did not seem at all happy, though he let the matter drop. Hugh wondered, though, what that grim look on his face meant, and, later on, had a hazy idea that he had found out.
The game started again. Encouraged by their success, Belleville again took matters in their own hands and forced the fighting. There were several weak places in the Scranton High line-up. Many who diagnosed the play were of the opinion that the game was already as good as lost.
Then came a most violent scrimmage, into which "Just" Smith plunged with the utmost recklessness, as though determined to wipe out all his former mistakes in some brilliant playing. Suddenly the referee's whistle called the game. Something had happened to bring about a stoppage of play. A fellow was down on the ice, with half a dozen others bending over him.
It was "Just" Smith, and he was apparently badly injured in the bargain. A doctor was speedily called, who pronounced it a fracture of the leg, and decided that the player would have to be taken home immediately for a physician's attention.
As "Just" Smith passed his captain, being carried by two husky players to a waiting car that would convey him home, he actually had the nerve to grin in Hugh's face. A suspicion came into the latter's mind to the effect that the player had purposely taken terrible risks in the hope that he might be disabled, so that a substitute could be put in his place; though, of course, Hugh tried to banish this thought as soon as it gripped him.
"Get your substitute, Hugh, or else we'll have to drop a man!" called the Belleville captain; and Hugh glanced apprehensively around; then broke through the dense crowd, and seized upon a skater who had been hovering near.
It was Nick Lang!
"We need another player, Nick!" Hugh exclaimed eagerly; "and I want you to help get the team out of this nasty hole, for the sake of good old Scranton High. So don't say you won't, but come along, and do your level best to bring us out ahead!"
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.