From the sides of the rink came shouts of laughter. Allan, Hal, and Tommy were hanging feebly over the barrier, beating the planks with their hands in gasping impotence.
“Do what?” asked Pete, plainly at a loss.
“Throw me over the boards,” answered the other, belligerently.
“Oh, that?” asked Pete. “Why, you were in my way, you see.”
“You shouldn’t have done that, Burley,” said the first team’s captain. “But you needn’t try and scrap here on the ice,” he continued, turning to the other. “Play the game!”
“Look here,” said Pete, “wasn’t that all right? Mustn’t I do that?”
“Of course you can’t. You ought to know the rules. The puck goes back there again.” The first’s captain turned away impatiently.
“It’s on me, partner,” said Pete. “Sorry, and hope I didn’t hurt you.”
“All right,” muttered the other, as graciously as he could. The knowledge that he had served as a source of intense amusement prevented him from putting much cordiality into his tones. The puck was taken back to where Pete had transgressed the rules, and again faced off by him and the second’s captain. The latter got possession and the play went on, but to the onlookers it was very dull, and none cared when, after a minute or two, the game came to an end.
Allan, Hal, and Tommy, still very red of face and still grinning, awaited Pete and escorted him back to the college in triumph, Hal marching ahead and chanting an improvised pæan of praise until Pete seized him and rolled him over in the snow. Thereupon Hal retired to a safe distance and threw snowballs at Pete. He was not, however, a very good shot and, as a result, Tommy and Allan were hit more often than their companion. It ended with the three joining forces against the obnoxious Hal and chasing him all the way down Poplar Street.