So the three lads drew sticks for the prize, and Gus Plum won.
"Hello! I'm in luck!" cried Gus, and looked much pleased. The silver lead-pencil sharpener was passed over to him, and he thanked the gymnastic instructor warmly for it.
"I am glad he got it, since it pleases him," said Phil to Roger, and the senator's son nodded in agreement.
The only boy who felt sore over the race was Nat Poole, and he continued to declare that he would have won had his skate not come loose.
"But just wait," he said, to some of the students. "I'll show 'em what I can do when we get to playing hockey." And that very night he started in to organize an ice-hockey team. He did not consult Mr. Dodsworth or Andrew Dale, fearing that they would not favor his selection of players.
"They have nothing to do with hockey," Nat explained to his friends. "All they have to look after is baseball and football, and track athletics. Doctor Clay didn't say a word about ice hockey, or field hockey, either." This was true, the master of the Hall having probably forgotten all about those sports. Nevertheless, it was understood by the majority of the students that all games and contests held with parties outside of Oak Hall were to come under the supervision of the gymnastic instructor and Andrew Dale.
"What are you going to do with yourself to-morrow afternoon?" asked Roger of Dave, on going to bed Friday.
"I have a little business to attend to in Rockville, Roger."
"Is that so? Want me to go along?"
This was a question Dave had dreaded to have asked, and he hardly knew how to answer. He determined to be as frank as possible.