Dan had had hopes of trying for the team at first and Alf had encouraged him. Alf played point on the team and was one of the steadiest of the seven. But a few days on the river had convinced Dan that he was too poor a performer on runners to make the hockey team, this year at least. He was very uncertain on his skates and was more often losing his balance or denting the ice than really skating. In the end, Alf was forced to admit that it would be as well for him to wait another year before trying for the team.
The final game was with Broadwood Academy and was played on the rival’s rink at Broadwood. Dan and Gerald and Tom were among the sixty-odd boys who accompanied the team. Broadwood has been Yardley’s principal rival for many years. To reach Broadwood from Wissining you cross the carriage bridge beyond the station and, keeping to the right, take the county road which runs inland and westward toward the hills. The academy lies some three miles from the depot at Greenburg and is perched on the slope of a long, wooded hill, with fields and farm below it and acres of forest behind. It is a comparatively new school and its buildings are handsome and up-to-date. Broadwood usually has about two hundred and thirty students, and a large proportion of her graduates enter Princeton.
The Yardley contingent traveled thither in two big “barges,” and had a merry time of it. The team went to the gymnasium to change their clothes, and the rest of the party wandered around the grounds sight-seeing. It is part of the Yardley creed to pretend to find no good in Broadwood, and so even the best of the buildings received disparaging criticisms. Of course, if there happened to be Broadwood fellows within hearing distance the criticisms were subdued; good taste demanded that much. But when their remarks could not be overheard the Yardley visitors indulged in sarcasm and disparagement to their hearts’ content.
“What’s this hovel?” asked Joe Chambers as the party drew up in front of Knowles Hall, the finest building of all. Someone supplied the desired information.
“Knowles Hall?” said Joe. “Well, Knowles ought to try again. Looks like a cross between a circus tent and a Turkish mosque. Get on to the lanterns in front, fellows! Aren’t they the limit?”
“Don’t make light of them,” begged some one.
“What is it, anyhow? A dormitory or a recitation hall?” asked Joe.
“Search me,” answered Paul Rand. “There’s a Broadwood fellow over there. Let’s ask him. He probably Knowles Hall about it.”
While the laughter elicited by this witticism was still convulsing the crowd, four Broadwood fellows came through the doorway and descended the steps, viewing the sightseers with surprise and curiosity.
“Well, it’s certainly a beautiful building,” said Joe loudly and earnestly.