few minutes to play Kirby stole the rubber from a
Hammond forward, passed it to Roy across the rink and followed up in
time to receive it back again near the center. He lost it for an
instant, recovered it, shot it against the boards ahead of Roy, who
found it as it carromed away, checked the Hammond point and gave Roy a
clean chance at the cage. Roy took the chance and lifted the puck past
goal's knees. There was no more scoring and 5 to 3 were the final
figures. Ferry Hill went home very well pleased with herself, and no one
received more praise than Hadden, whose steady, brilliant work at the
goal had contributed more than anything else to the victory.

The final game of the series was not due until two weeks later and
during those two weeks Ferry Hill worked like Trojans. But before that
final contest was decided Ferry Hill and Hammond had again met on the
ice and tried conclusions, and although there was no hockey in this
contest it was quite as exciting while it lasted. It came about in this
way.

Hammond's right end and captain was a big yellow-haired giant named
Schonberg, a brilliant player and a wonderful skater, if the tales one
heard of him were true. Possibly the fact that in the recent game Roy,
who opposed him, had outplayed him, wounded his vanity. At all events
Horace Burlen approached Jack Rogers one morning a few days after the
game with an open letter in his hand and a frown on his brow.

"Look at this thing from Hammond, will you, Jack," he said. "They've
challenged us to a skating race on the river. Any time and any distance
we like, they say; hang their cheek!"

Jack stopped and read the letter.

"Well, I guess they've got us there," he said. "I don't know of any
fellow who would stand the ghost of a chance against that chap
Schonberg."

"Well, I hate to refuse," replied Horace importantly. "It seems to me we
ought to accept the challenge even if we get beaten."

"I suppose we ought," said Jack, "but you'll find it pretty hard to find
a fellow willing to try conclusions with Schonberg."

"I'd try it myself," said Horace carelessly, "but I'm terribly out of
practice; haven't been on the ice more than two or three times this
winter."

"You be blowed!" answered Jack impolitely. "Why Schonberg would leave
you standing! Me, too, for that matter. I'll talk the thing over with
Roy Porter."

"Think he would stand any show?" asked Horace.

"Roy? I don't know. He's a pretty good skater on the