ks flew about his feet and point threw himself at him. Then
came a quick side pass to Roy, the sharp sound of stick against puck and
the ring of the iron post as the hard rubber disk struck it and glanced
in. Five to six, and Ferry Hill coming all the time! How the
brown-decked boys along the sides yelled! Mr. Cobb consulted the
time-keeper.

"Two minutes left!" he called.

"Time enough to win in!" shouted Roy.

"Sure!" answered Jack triumphantly. With sticks gyrating they sped back
to their positions. But Hammond was in no hurry now and the time-keeper
kept his eyes carefully on his stop-watch until finally the whistle
shrilled again. Then back to the fray went the brown jerseys and over
the ice sped the Ferry Hill skates. A rush down the rink and again the
Hammond goal was in danger. A quick swoop of Warren's stick and the puck
was winging straight for the goal. But a gloved hand met it and tossed
it aside. Roy swung circling back and passed across to Jack. Another
shot, this time wide of the net. Schonberg and Jack fought it out in the
corner and Jack rapped the disk out to Warren. The Hammond cover-point
checked his stick and secured the disk, shooting it down the rink. A
Hammond forward got it but was off-side. Warren joined him and they
faced near the center. A quick pass to Jack and the forwards turned and
dug their blades into the ice. Down they came, charging and passing,
past cover-point, past point, and then--

Out shot goal and away to the left rolled the puck. Roy, turning after
it, shot a quick glance at the time-keeper. Then he was fighting with a
Hammond man for possession of the elusive black disk, their bodies
crashing against the boards and their sticks flying hither and thither.
But Warren came to the rescue, poked the puck out from under the
Hammondite's skate and passed it across to Kirby in front of goal.
Another try and another stop by the Cherry's goal-tend. And so it went
and so went the precious seconds. And then, suddenly, with the puck
within a yard of goal once more and Roy's stick raised for a shot, the
whistle rang out!

"Time's up!" announced Mr. Cobb.

Roy turned fiercely.

"It can't be up!" he cried, skating toward the referee.

"It is, though," was the answer.

"That's perfect nonsense!" said Roy hotly. "You said there was two
minutes left just a minute ago!"

"That'll do, Porter," said Mr. Cobb coldly.

Roy dropped his eyes, swallowed something hard in his throat and
e