Guarding His Goal

by Ralph Henry Barbour

“Oh, I’m feeling great to-day. Let’s get out and tramp a little before first hour. Shall we?”

“All right. Wait till I get a cap. Guess we’ll need sweaters, too.”

“I’ll have to run up and get mine and I’ll fetch yours on the way down.” Toby paused with the door half open. “Say, Arn, it’s—it’s all right, isn’t it? About last night, I mean.”

“Of course it is, you chump! Get a move on. We’ve only got about twenty minutes.”

At three o’clock in the afternoon of that fifth day of January the stretch of low ground near the river and south of the running track became the scene of remarkable activity. Fully half the school turned out, although not all, I regret to say, with the intention of being helpful. Perhaps fifty per cent. of the gathering was there to watch the other fifty per cent. work and to get as much amusement as possible out of the spectacle. Mr. Bendix, the Physical Director, better known as “Muscles,” was in charge of proceedings, assisted by Andy Ryan, the trainer. Corner pegs had already been set when the boys arrived and the task of digging holes for the uprights to hold the boards in place was under way. Captain Crowell, acting as lieutenant, doled out shovels and picks and soon the necessary excavations were completed. Fortunately, only the crust of the earth was frozen and once under that digging was easy. The joists were next lugged from their place of storage under the grand-stand and dropped into the holes and with one boy holding and two or three others shoveling, and Andy Ryan running around with a carpenter’s level to see that the joists were set straight, that part of the work went swiftly and would have gone more swiftly if the onlookers, being in a particularly happy frame of mind, had not stood around and cheered every move enthusiastically.

Then a stream of fellows made for the back of the grand-stand again and returned bearing the planks, which, being in sections ready to attach to the uprights, required less labor than the pessimistic Creel had led Toby to anticipate. Each section was numbered and fell readily into place, after which a few long spikes completed the operation. Toby, armed with a hammer and a bag of spikes, was one of the carpenters. Every time he missed the head of the spike a shout of derision arose from the attentive audience, and, in consequence, Toby was very likely to promptly miss again! But there were plenty of others to aid and before long the three-foot-high barrier was in place, enclosing a parallelogram of faded and trampled turf one hundred and thirty-two feet long by sixty feet wide. Before the last spike had been driven home the boys were busy with picks and shovels and a foot-high bank of earth was being thrown up against the bottom of boards on the outside. By the time the last shovelful had been tossed in place twilight was on them and the spectators had departed. The thermometer showed the mercury at twenty-eight degrees, but falling, and it was decided to put in enough water to only saturate the ground. Two lines of hose were coupled to the nearer hydrants and the enclosure was thoroughly wet down. That ended the labor for the time and some forty-odd boys, abandoning shovels and picks, viewed the result of their labor with proud satisfaction and tramped somewhat wearily back to the dormitories. To Toby, at least, who had worked hard and unceasingly from first to last, the lighted windows up the hill looked very good.

The thermometer was down to twenty in the morning and again the water was turned into the hydrants, the hose coupled and the frozen ground sprayed. This operation was repeated twice more during the day and when, in the late afternoon, Toby and Arnold walked down to the rink they found an inch of ice already formed. But it was not until the following afternoon that the rink was ready for use. The mercury was down to fourteen above zero at three o’clock and the final spraying at noon had supplied a surface as smooth and hard as glass. By a quarter past three four squads were at work, rushing and passing and, it must be acknowledged, sprawling over the ice. Later two teams were picked by Captain Crowell and the other fellows pulled their sweaters on again and lined the barrier and looked on. Most of the school was on hand, as well, and although there was no line-up that afternoon, they found plenty to divert them.

Toby, of course, spent most of the practice time outside the barrier, but he profited not a little by watching the more fortunate fellows. Going back, he confided to Arnold that he was sure he would never be able to get around on skates the way those chaps did. Arnold, whose right to a place on the first team was generally recognized, had been hard at it and was feeling very perked up and cheerful and derided Toby’s doubts.

“You wait till you’ve had a few days of it,” he said. “You’ll get the hang of it all right. There’s only one secret, Toby, and that is skate low. It helps you to keep your balance and makes it harder for the other fellow to body-check you. If you’re standing straight on your skates the least shove will throw you over, but if you’re skating low you can take a good hard check and keep your feet on the ice.”

“I see that,” said Toby. “But you fellows dodge and jump around and turn so quickly! Why, I’d break my silly neck if I tried it!”