The Chums of Scranton High at Ice Hockey written by Donald Ferguson

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"I notice one thing," remarked Thad, "which is that some of those
fellows who used to loaf on the street corners in summer are now
coming to the club-house at the baseball park, now it's opened three
nights a week. The only trouble is they haven't got half enough
magazines and games there to go around, so many visit the big room to
get in out of the cold these nights."

"That is going to be remedied before long," Hugh told him. "Some of
the men of the town, and Deacon Winslow heads the list, I understand,
have arranged to spend a lot more money on certain improvements; and
among other things there will be a pretty fair gymnasium, as well as
more reading matter of the right sort for boys."

"Now, that's news to me, Hugh!" exclaimed the delighted Thad; "queer
that I hadn't heard a word about it before. But then you get wind of
everything that's going on. Folks think they ought to ask your
advice on all sorts of subjects. That's what it means to be the most
popular boy in a town."

Hugh laughed.

"Thanks for the compliment, Thad," he said; "but just think of the
weight of responsibility I have to stagger under, even as the captain
of the Scranton Seven. Why, everybody stops me on the street, and
asks the most remarkable questions. They seem to think I'm gifted
with prophetic vision. They ask me to tell them just how badly we're
going to whip Keyport to-morrow morning, and lots of other things
that I know no more about than a baby might."

"Well, have you decided to give up trying to learn where the woman
with the little child came from?" asked Thad, again switching the
subject in an abrupt fashion he had.

"Oh! I don't know whether it will pay me to go out again, and try to
trace her back to Belleville, or some such place," said Hugh.
"Doctor Cadmus assured my mother she would certainly be in her
rational mind inside of two days at the longest. So I reckon I had
better lie on my oars, and wait. I've got plenty to bother about, as
it is, with that hot game coming off in the morning."

"Perhaps you're wise about that, Hugh. I know I'm a lot too
impatient by half, and can't bear to wait for things to come to me.
That's why I always stepped out to meet the ball when at bat; and I
often caught it before the break came to make it a sharp drop."

"Mother says she thinks her full name is Judith Walters, though, as
far as we know now, that doesn't help any. Still, if she didn't
recover, it might assist in finding her family, so they could take
the boy. He's a fine little chap, and I've already made great
friends with him."

"You say she keeps on speaking to someone she calls grandfather, who
seems likely to turn them both out of the house?" Thad persisted, as
though he might be trying to figure something out.

"Yes, and so we take it for granted there must be some sort of a
pitiful family tragedy about the whole affair," Hugh told him.
"Mother suspects she may have married some years ago against her
grandfather's will; and, losing her husband suddenly through
accident, she is now on her way back, to plead with a hard-hearted
old man for a place under his roof. But as you say there's no family
named Walters near here, and we certainly don't know of any girl
leaving her home that way."

"The chances are," Thad said decisively, "that she was meaning to
pass through Scranton, and was heading for some other town, perhaps
Allandale. You might find out if any such thing happened there some
years ago; or if an old man could be found who would welcome a dear
little boy named Joey."

The subject being exhausted for the time being, the boys talked of
something else until they finally separated, each heading for his own
particular supper table.

Of course, the news of Tip's arrest was soon known all over town.
Most people had anticipated such an event, and professed not to be in
the least surprised to hear about it. Nevertheless, the clever
device of Chief Wambold, which he took care should be passed from lip
to lip, so as to add to his popularity, was highly commended.

And there never was a time when Scranton passed a more peaceful night
than on that occasion. Already great good was coming of the breaking
up of the vicious gang that had held sway much too long. With two of
the members locked up, being just as good as on their way to the
Reform School, and the leader forsaking his former evil practices, it
looked as though the police force of Scranton would soon become fat
and lazy through lack of activity.

Hugh did not go out that evening. He was tired, and wished to
conserve his energies so as to be in first-class trim for that lively
morning brush with Keyport's Big Seven.

So he spent considerable time playing with little Joey; and, being
still hopeful of learning something that would afford a clue to the
mysterious past of the boy's young mother, Hugh often plied him with
questions.

But his success was hardly flattering to his acumen, for the little
fellow could not tell him anything that would be of material help.
Hugh guessed that they had once been out in some mining country, from
certain things the boy chanced to mention. He also had reason to
believe the father had come to his death through such a catastrophe
as so often happens in the mines; for the boy spoke of many families
losing those they loved when "poppy" was buried in the cold ground.

It was slow work, and anyone less tenacious than Hugh might have
given up all hope of making a discovery. He believed, however, that
if no other way arose by means of which they could find out what they
sought, some time or other Joey was apt to let fall a word that might
lead to discoveries.

The doctor came before bedtime, and said his patient was getting
along nicely.

"Given one more day, and possibly by Sunday she may come into her
senses again," he told them before leaving. "And then she can thank
you, madam, for all your kind heart has done for her. But that
little boy is a sunbeam for any house. I have half a mind to steal
him myself."

CHAPTER XIII

THE LIVELY GAME WITH KEYPORT'S SEVEN

Many a fellow in Scranton felt blue early on Saturday morning, when,
jumping from his warm bed, and hastening over to a window, he looked
out to discover a few flakes of snow lazily drifting earthwards.

The gloomy sky seemed to be in fit condition for a heavy snowfall,
that would put the hockey game with Keyport entirely out of the
question.

By the time breakfast was ready, however, these fugitive snowflakes
had ceased falling entirely, and, shortly afterwards, the bright sun
broke out, lifting the load from myriads of enthusiastic young hearts.

After all, it turned out a perfectly glorious winter's day, the air
being keen, but with little wind to mar the work of the contenders on
the icy rink.

Along about nine in the morning people began to gather at the park,
paying for seats in the grandstand. Everybody was as warmly clad as
possible, since it is no joke to sit for an hour or two, with the
thermometer registering half-way down to zero.

As before, one-half of the enclosed area was shut off from the
general public, in order to afford the | hockey players the benefit
of the new ice. Of course, it had been flooded on the preceding
night, after the last skater had left, and this caused a splendid
surface to congeal.

Boys and girls came flocking to the place. Many bore skates, but
there were others who only wished to witness the contest between the
two rival high-school teams, as scheduled for that morning. There
were hosts of other people present also; and already cars and
conveyances of every description were arriving from Keyport,
Allandale, Belleville, and such places, filled with eager
enthusiasts, who loved a good hockey game above all sports, and would
journey far afield in order to be present when one was to be played.

Shortly afterwards some of the Scranton players appeared on the
enclosed area. Their coming was greeted with all sorts of cries,
meant, for the most part, as encouragement, and expressing a firm
belief in their ability to win out.

"We're pinning our faith on you boys. Dugdale, remember!" cried one
fellow.

"Don't let them get too big a start on you, because they're terrible
fighters, once they get a lead!" came from another, who, having lived
in Keyport, was supposed to know the characteristics of the boys on
that team.

"And, Hobson, always remember that it's the longest pole that knocks
the persimmons!" whooped a third fellow student.

Thad and Hugh were sitting on a low bench, adjusting their skates
leisurely, and listening in an amused way to much of this friendly
badinage.

"The boys are certainly wanting to win this game, Hugh," chuckled
Thad. "Makes me think of some of the warm sessions we had last
summer in baseball contests with Allandale and Belleville. ["_The
Chums of Scranton High in the Three-Town League_."]

"It seems as if Scranton boys and girls have developed a voracious
appetite for every kind of out-door sport lately," Hugh went on to
say. "Did you hear what the committee in charge of the grounds here
intends to do next week?"

"Haven't heard a whisper so far, Hugh; so give me the news," pleaded
the other.

"Why, you know the fellows have been building bonfires here at
night-times when skating. It was all very fine, but there seemed to
be considerable worry about the new high fence taking fire and
burning during the night. So they've concluded to run wires across
from side to side, and string electric lights for use on dark nights,
but only when the skating is good."

Thad looked pleased.

"Why, that's a boss idea; who suggested it, Hugh?" he demanded.

"Oh! somebody just happened to think of it, and the committee agreed
it was a good scheme," returned Hugh; but something about his manner
told Thad the truth.

"Huh! I can give a pretty good guess who that smart chap is; but
don't bother trying to deny it, Hugh. The only bad thing about it in
my mind is that we'll miss those jolly fires. It's always been so
fine to skate up and stand before one, to get warm, and hear the
flames crackle, while the girl you're skating with sits on a log, or
something like that, to warm her feet."

"Oh! well, when you want the romantic side of night-skating, Thad,
you'll have to go out to Hobson's mill-pond, like you say you used to
do. There, with plenty of wood handy, you can have the biggest fire
you feel like making. Here, so close to town, we have to get our
light in a more modern way. Now, I reckon I'm ready for any sort of
a scrimmage that comes along."

A shout presently announced that the boys from Keyport had arrived in
a big car of the "rubber-neck" variety, with five seats across; and
used for sight-seeing purposes, or any excursion where a dozen or
twenty wished to go in a crowd.

A little later the fellows came on the ice in a body, with their
distinguishing jerseys. They appeared to be an exceedingly lively
bunch, and were soon spinning about, displaying a nimbleness that
excited apprehensions in many a loyal Scranton heart.

As boys need little introduction, the opposing players quickly
intermingled, and seemed on the best of terms. Captain Mossman and
Hugh paired off, to talk over matters connected with the game. They
were soon joined by Mr. Leonard, and several gentlemen, some from
Keyport, others hailing from Allandale and Belleville.

It was soon decided that the officials should be chosen as far as
possible from neutral territory. There were to be a referee, an
assistant referee, two goal umpires, as many timekeepers, and a pair
of penalty timekeepers.

Fortunately, Allandale and its sister town had quite a quota of
former college players and gentlemen who had been members of famous
hockey clubs in Canada and elsewhere when younger. They had kept in
touch with the progress of events, so that they were eminently
qualified to act in the various capacities to which they were now
assigned by Mr. Leonard and the coach of the Keyport Seven.

Hugh kept looking around from time to time. He wished to be posted
as to what other promising players connected with Scranton High were
on the ice, so that in case of necessity he could call on one of them
to take the place of an injured Scranton boy.

And when he finally noted that Nick Lang had arrived, and was on his
skates, somehow Hugh seemed relieved. Deep down in his heart he
believed that should he have occasion to replace a player, as the
rules allowed, on account of serious injury, which is about the only
excuse for such a thing, Nick would be his first choice.

He wished now he had spoken to Nick about it, so that he could depend
on his remaining throughout the game. There was not another fellow
who would be of such great benefit to Scranton as the boy now wearing
Hugh's old hockey skates. But it was too late to think of seeking
him out, for the game was about to be called.

When the rival teams faced each other, and listened to the last
instructions of the head referee, they were found to line up as
follows:

_Scranton High_ _Position_ _Keyport_
Stevens .......... Goal ............ Kellogg
Hobson ........... Point ........... Ackerson
Danvers .......... Cover Point ..... Bell
Smith ............ Right End ....... Elly
Dugdale .......... Center .......... Braxton
Juggins .......... Left End ........ Mossman
Morgan ........... Rover ........... Jackson

Hugh faced Mossman when the puck was dropped on the ice, and play
began. There was a furious scramble, but Hugh came out of it
first-best, for he bore away the little elusive rubber disc, and
managed to carry it some distance down toward Keyport's goal before
losing control. Then the fun became fast and furious, indeed. Those
agile skaters whirled back and forth across the smooth ice with every
imaginable turn and twist.

Clever plays were continually occurring on either side, and these
were greeted with outbursts of enthusiastic cheering.

The crowd really seemed very impartial and sportsmanlike, considering
that possibly four-fifths of it represented the local team, and might
be supposed to feel prejudiced in their favor. They shouted
themselves fairly hoarse over a brilliant dash on the part of Captain
Mossman, whereby he outwitted his opponents, and, despite all Thad's
efforts to block the play, shot the puck home in the cage for the
first well-won goal of the game.

Later on Owen Dugdale repeated the performance in almost as masterly
a manner. The applause was, if anything, a shade more uproarous.
Now the game went on evenly, with a goal apiece; but Keyport was out
for scoring and would not be denied; so, in a hurry, they pushed the
fighting down on Scranton territory, and put another goal to their
credit, though three times did Thad balk the effort before it was
accomplished.

When the first twenty minutes had expired the score was six to five.
Keyport was ahead, but the margin was so small that no one despaired.

After the intermission they went at it once more, "hammer-and-tongs."
Thus far no one had been injured seriously enough to more than delay
the game a few minutes, and, before the fatal seven had expired, the
fellow who had been hurt was able to take his place in the line; so
no substitutes were called on. Hugh was glad of this, though he
frequently shot a quick glance around to see if Nick Lang still hung
about; which he certainly did, being deeply interested in the game.

The second half was even more fiercely contested than the previous
one had been. Scranton rallied behind Hugh, and put up a savage
attack that carried them up a couple of pegs, the score then standing
eight to seven; but after a bit Keyport came back and tied it again.
So it remained until the limit of the game approached perilously
near, and it seemed as though an extension of time would have to be
granted, as the rules allowed. But at the last minute, Hugh himself
carried out a daring steal of the puck; and, before the opposing
players could block him, shot it into their net for the winning score.

Before the players could get in position again, and the puck be
faced, the whistle of the referee declared the game over, with
Scranton a bare winner.

The Keyport players were plainly greatly chagrined, but they proved
game losers, and had not a fault to find, shaking hands cheerfully
with their late opponents, and expressing a hope that a return match
could be arranged on their rink at some date not far in the future.

CHAPTER XIV

ENCOURAGING NICK

It was well on toward noon when Hugh, tired of skating for one day,
started homeward. For a wonder he walked by himself, something Hugh
seldom had happen; for if his chum Thad Stevens was not at his side,
some other fellow, possibly several, would be sure to hurry so as to
catch up with him.

But Thad had been compelled to go home an hour before on some
account, his folks having certain plans that forced him to accompany
them immediately after lunch.

Hugh was feeling a bit tired, but in good spirits, nevertheless,
because of the clever victory his team had won, in which he had borne
his part consistently. It always gives a boy a warm sensation around
the region of his heart to realize that he has not failed those who
put their faith in his ability. How many can look back with a
feeling of pride to that "great day" when it was their home-run
drive, or whistling three-bagger that pulled the home team out of a
slump, and started a batting-bee that, eventually, won the game?
Those days are marked with a red letter in the pages of memory.

When part way to town, for the athletic grounds lay outside the
limits of Scranton, though not far away, Hugh suddenly discovered a
familiar figure just ahead of him, which, somehow, he had not noticed
up to then. It was Nick Lang. He had his skates dangling over his
shoulder by a strap, and Hugh could actually catch his whistle as he
strode along.

Somehow this told him Nick was feeling in higher spirits than had
lately been the case. Perhaps he was beginning to feel a new
confidence in himself, Hugh suspected. In the beginning Nick must
have seriously doubted his ability to, as some of the boys would have
called it, "come across, and deliver the goods," when he set out to
reform his ways.

He had now been keeping up the pace for more than a week. It was
gradually growing easier, too, the further he went along the
unfamiliar road. People did not sneer quite so much at him as in the
beginning. Some even ventured to give him a half-friendly nod when
they chanced to meet.

And so for the first time perhaps since that day when he made up his
mind, Nick was unconsciously whistling as he walked along, his
thoughts busy with matters connected with his set purpose.

Obeying an impulse Hugh quickened his pace.

"Oh, Nick! Hold on a minute, will you?" he called out.

On turning his head quickly and seeing who it was, Nick stopped short
in his tracks. He was looking a little confused, yet not displeased,
when Hugh reached him.

Hugh thrust out his hand, and, of course, Nick had to accept it,
though he did look a little awkward, because this was a new
experience with him. Still, he gave Hugh's digits a fierce squeeze
that might be taken as an index to his feelings toward his one-time
hated enemy.

"I've been wanting to have a little chat with you for some time,
Nick," the other hastened to say; "but somehow every chance I got
something would interfere, and the best I could do was to wave my
hand, or give you a nod. Now this morning, just as I started to
skate through the crowd to say something important to you, the coach
called me back and said they were ready to start play. Do you know
what it was I meant to ask of you this morning, Nick?"

Nick looked puzzled and curious also.

"I might guess it in a week, Hugh," he said, grinning; "but not right
away. You see, I ain't used to having _anybody_ ask things of me.
It's generally been a scowl, and a suspicious look, as if they
thought I mean to play a trick on 'em if they so much as turned their
heads on me. But then that's just what I used to do often enough; so
I oughtn't to complain. What did you want with me, Hugh?"

"I was going to ask you to stand by during the entire game, because,
in case one of my players was hurt so badly that he'd have to be
dropped out, rather than cut both sides down to six, I meant to put
you in as substitute, no matter what position had to be filled."

Nick caught his breath. His face flushed, and a glow appeared in his
eyes. That expression of confidence shown in Hugh's words filled his
aching heart with new encouragement. Hugh could see the muscles of
his cheeks working, as though he found it difficult to control his
emotions. Then Nick spoke.

"That was mighty kind in you, Hugh, to think of me," he said, with
just a suspicious quiver to his voice. "I'd sure liked to have
played in that game; but do you think it'd have been wise to have
picked _me_ for a substitute when there were plenty of other fellows
on the ice competent to take the place?"

"Not one able to fill your shoes, Nick, and they know it," asserted
Hugh stoutly.

"But then if you'd done that there'd sure have been a howl raised
later on by lots of folks who still have it in for me because of the
past," urged Nick, though it could be easily seen that he felt
particularly pleased by what the captain of the Scranton High Seven
had just told him.

"Let them howl," Hugh went on to say. "There never yet was a fellow
who nobly redeemed his past but what a bunch of wolves set up a howl
on his heels. Don't you pay any attention to those fellows, Nick.
Stick to your game through thick and thin. Every day you go on as
you have been doing you win fresh friends. Even Mr. Leonard, who
used to fairly detest you, is now singing your praises; and Dr.
Carmack told me he was pinning his faith on you. He's a long-headed
man, Nick, a very far-seeing man, who knows boys and is not easily
deceived. He believes in you; so do I, and a lot of other fellows.
You're going to make good, and I know it."

"Well, I'm going to keep on fighting, that's all I can say, Hugh,"
replied Nick grimly. "I'll get there, or bust the biler trying. But
sometimes I have an awful time with myself, just because I can't
wholly believe folks will respect a chap who's done as many mean
things as I have in the past."

"You must put that out of your mind, Nick," urged the other. "Why,
don't you think I'd have ten times as much respect for the fellow
who's been down, and climbs up again through his own will-power, than
for the one who's always been shielded from temptation, and never
really proved what he had in him? Nine-tenths of the fellows who
walk along so straight are kept on that road because they happen to
have wise parents to watch over them; and they were never given an
overpowering appetite to do wrong things."

Nick drew a long breath. His eyes glistened again, and perhaps with
something besides the animation that Hugh's kind and encouraging
words kindled within his soul.

"You see," he went on to say, presently, when he could control his
voice, "I always did like to run smack up against a hard proposition.
It's in my nature to want a good fight, and I reckon I've got it this
time. But I'm a whole lot stubborn, too, Hugh, as likely you've
learned; and I don't give up easy. Since I started to reform I'm
a-going to get there if it takes a leg. Anyhow, it's a heap sight
pleasanter doing it _outside_ the Reform School than inside, like
some fellows I used to train with are a-going to do, it seems."

All this kind of talk pleased Hugh immensely. He felt more than ever
satisfied with the magnificent result of that clever little scheme of
his. Reading Hugo's masterpiece had brought it about, too, and he
would always have occasion to remember this when handling that volume
recording the wonderful achievements of the one-time ignorant convict
and human beast named Jean Valjean.

Nick just then saw several other boys hurrying to overtake Hugh. He
immediately evinced a desire to start off on a tangent, and head
elsewhere.

"I've got an errand over in town, Hugh, so I'll break away," he said
hurriedly, though Hugh could easily guess the real reason for his
departure. "But I want to tell you I appreciate your kindness, and
if in the next hockey match there's need of a substitute, and you see
fit to put _me_ in, why, I'll work my fingers to the bone to make
good, sure I will."

And Hugh believed it.

CHAPTER XV

WHERE THE SPARKS FLEW

Along about three o'clock that afternoon Hugh, feeling refreshed,
made up his mind he would go for a walk. There had been no positive
change in the condition of the mother of little Joey. She was coming
along nicely, though, Doctor Cadmus assured Mrs. Morgan, and would
very likely awaken in her proper senses on the following morning. He
was successfully combating the inclination towards fever, he told the
good lady, and this gave Hugh's mother considerable relief.

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