“What’s the matter?” ventured Gerald anxiously.
“Oh, they’re playing all around us. And look at the ice! Did you ever see such a mess? Why, you can’t slide the puck at all; you’ve got to lift it every time. And your skates just sink into the ice. Still, we couldn’t lick them, anyway, to-day. Those forwards of theirs are dandies, every one of them. Their goal isn’t much, I guess, but the trouble is we can’t break through to try him.”
“You made one goal, though,” said Dan encouragingly. Alf shrugged his shoulders.
“It was just luck,” he said. “I’ll bet we don’t score again!”
If Dan had accepted the wager he would have lost. Yardley became utterly demoralized in the last half; every fellow played for himself and team work was quite forgotten. The result was that Broadwood, amidst the cheers of her adherents, piled up six more goals, and the disastrous contest ended with the score nine to one in favor of the Green. Broadwood cheered Yardley and Yardley cheered Broadwood and the visitors ran for the gymnasium. The crowd of Yardley “rooters” were sad and subdued. Joe Chambers produced the only laugh from the end of the game to the time they were rattling homeward in the barges when he declaimed mournfully:
“Oh, Yardley had a hockey team;
Its fleece was white as snow.
It went to play with Broadwood;
Oh, what an awful blow!”
[CHAPTER XII]
YARDLEY GETS REVENGE
But Yardley found her revenge in another form of sport.