Mehan tried this once too often, jamming with terrific force into Dick Starbright, who was skating in the opposite direction. The result was disastrous to the New London man, who was hurled from his feet by the force of the impact, being literally lifted by Starbright’s greater weight and strength. He fell with a crash, striking his head on the floor, and lay for a moment stunned.
The referee blew his whistle; and, as if to cover up the confusion, Dashleigh’s band began to play.
“I’ll git even with ye for that!” Mehan growled viciously, as he crawled to his feet.
Then it was found that in the fall he had broken his skate, and a wait was occasioned.
“Look out for that fellow, Dick!” Frank warned. “He has been acting ugly toward you ever since the game began. Once, when he struck at the ball in the air, as if his stick were a baseball bat, and missed it, I thought he really struck at you. I believe now he did!”
“Oh, I saw the rascal!” Dick smiled. “I’ve been watching him ever since. But I don’t fancy he will care to run into me again, as he did just then.”
The fierceness of the New London men seemed to increase when the play began again, and within two minutes they had caged the ball, catching Browning off his guard and shooting the sphere between his legs.
Then how the friends of Dade Morgan cheered, in spite of the fact that the goal had been won from Yale!
“They’re fools!” Morgan snarled to himself. “I warned them against making such a show of themselves; but lots of fellows haven’t any more tact than to exhibit themselves in that way.”
Yet he was so pleased that the smile came to his face without any effort on his part.