“Look—he’s written his name ‘Scotty’!” exclaimed an amazed spectator as Melville’s star finished his complicated twistings and turnings. “Marvelous!”
“Let’s see you write your name!” called Scotty.
“You think you’re clever!” flashed a greatly chagrined Frederick. “I’ll show you...!”
But the referee’s whistle screeched, announcing time for the starting of the game.
“Just a second!” Frederick pleaded as he turned toward the referee.
“Off the ice!” waved the referee, “all you fellows who aren’t in the opening line-up!”
“Well, see you again some time!” razzed Scotty.
A thoroughly upset fancy skating champion found his way to the bench and slumped down upon it. He had not cared what might be thought of him as a hockey player but to be humiliated on his own rink in his own sport ... this was terrible!
It was half way through a blistering first period before Coach Howard sent Frederick in, along with two other spares, to replace Kirkwood’s regular forward wall. The score was nothing to nothing and the hot pace of the battle had the crowd on edge.
“Hello—if here isn’t Frederick, the Great!” kidded Scotty. “Here’s hoping he’s as good a hockey player as he is a fancy skater! If he is, it’ll be duck soup!”