“Yes, that’s so. You’re just a fancy skater but your figure eights don’t do you any good in a game.”
Rand Downey, right wing on the Kirkwood High six, was boiling mad. This fellow, Frederick, the Great, Barker, had finally gotten so on his nerves as to cause him to explode. The idea of Coach Howard putting this impossible person on the team at left wing, replacing the veteran Don Keith who was out with a sprained ankle! What did Coach want to do—throw the whole team off its stride and right before the big game with Melville?
“It’s true I haven’t played much hockey,” the slenderly built Frederick was replying. “You must remember, old boy, I didn’t come out for the team—I was ... er ... pressed into service when the ... er ... expediency arose.”
Frederick was like that. Big words, stilted sentences, haughty, superior manner. He didn’t have a close friend in the school; kept pretty much to himself; played a lone hand when it came to sports. Track and ice skating had seemed to be his two favorite athletic diversions. In his peculiarly aloof way he had stepped out and won the two-twenty and four-forty, setting county records for both events. On the ice, Frederick had exhibited a brand of fancy skating which had astounded the natives.
“I should be able to skate,” he had said, after winning the cup with ease. “My folks spent a couple years in Canada and, you know, babies are born with skates on their feet up there.”
It had been Coach Howard’s idea that the conversion of Frederick, the Great, Barker into a hockey player, would add amazing strength to the team. Strangely enough, the newcomer to Kirkwood had not been enthusiastic about the thoughts of playing.
“Ice skating is a game of grace and beauty of movement,” had been his explanation. “I just don’t see anything to this rough and tumble business.”
But the old appeal “for the honor and glory of the school” had won Frederick over. He had readily agreed to Coach Howard’s declaration that Kirkwood High possessed few really good skaters although he was not so sure that his addition to the team would have the bolstering effect predicted.
“I’ll do the best I can,” had been his promise.
“You’ll be a whiz,” the coach had encouraged. “A man as fast on his feet as you? Why, say—when you get this hockey game in your blood, you’ll burn up the ice!”