Hastings lost the first set-to with Lanky. His men, however, were now worked up to top-notch speed. They who had never as yet tasted of defeat in hockey were now being apparently put in a hole by the despised Columbia High Seven. It could be seen that they fought wickedly to get the advantage.
Many times the game was called while the referee warned some of the eager participants against reckless work. Sometimes it was one of Frank's men thus taken to task; but three to one it was a Clifford player; for in their furious efforts these fellows were continually getting off-side, and even fouling.
It took over ten minutes for a goal to be shot. Then it was Clifford that gained the point; but as their friends admitted, it had been the hardest fought goal that ever came to them.
Of course Clifford colors waved frantically after this goal had been won; but the Columbia cheers sounded above any noise the up-river people could evoke. It seemed a battle of giants, and was the finest thing they had ever seen, no matter which side eventually won.
Once more the battle was on, with Hastings getting the puck, and running with it ten yards and more before he had to shoot it ahead. Away flew the sprinters like the wind, rounding up with a furious swirl as they headed off the spinning rubber, and the hockey sticks got busy with their work.
Every one in the scrimmage did gallant work. When the roll of heroes was made up at the end of the fight not a single name could be left out. There were times when each member of both teams had his turn, and many surprising and bewildering plays were worked with a celerity that called forth involuntary cheers from the gaping crowds, irrespective of which school profited from the wonderful maneuvering.
When fifteen minutes of the second half had gone a tremendous whirlwind of cheers announced that Columbia had managed to get past the able defense of Hollingsworth, and planted the puck in the net of the enemy.
Three to one! And only five minutes more for play!
No wonder Columbia stock went soaring at this point; and that each player under Frank's able lead made up his mind to hold this advantage to the end. The up-river fellows were wild with eagerness to get the puck in motion, for every second lost counted with them now. Columbia on the other hand, seemed in no hurry, though of course they did not purposely try to delay the game.
When play had once more started the pace of Clifford was indeed furious. Each member of her team seemed to be possessed with a fire that could not be held in check. But on the other hand the Columbia fellows did everything in their power to hold the puck away from their goal, and many were the magnificent dashes intended to delay matters.