Lanny pounced on him and there was noise and confusion until the older fellows parted them. Then everyone trooped into supper, deliciously hungry, and fell upon the repast like a flight of devastating locusts. Luckily defeat doesn’t spoil appetites.
In spite of Ben’s plans, there was no morning practice on Monday, for a mantle of snow hid the ice and the time that was to have been devoted to skating and stick work was spent with snow-shovels in hand. There was practice in the afternoon, but that night it again snowed and Ben viewed the rink the next day with deep disgust. The only consoling thought was that the Day Team was no better off. Again shovels were brought into play and by the time the ice was cleared the barriers about the rinks were surrounded by deep banks of snow. Bert learned to be an expert with the wooden shovel, for he, like the rest of the under-class fellows, had to work hard those days. But it was all in a good cause and he didn’t mind it a bit. The spirit of mutiny was quite quelled now. The snow made the tobogganing better and there were some rare times on the slide. Having won the right to the use of the slide the juniors were no longer debarred from it, but it must be acknowledged that they were somewhat restricted and often had to wait a good while for a chance to go down. Kid alone, however, voiced rebellion. It seemed as if, having once tasted the joys of independence, he could not reconcile himself to slavery. But he found no encouragement from the other members of the Junior Four and his protests were wasted on the winter air.
“You just wait until I’m an upper middler,” he threatened. “Maybe I won’t bully the juniors! Wow!”
IX
THE SOCIETY MEETS AGAIN
A week later the Junior Four met in extraordinary session. Strange to relate, it had been the Honorary Member who had issued the call for the meeting, but instead of resenting what looked like usurpation of authority the others welcomed the summons.
It was a Saturday morning and a dull one. A February thaw had set in, the snow was fit only for snowballs, the rinks were awash and the second game of the hockey series had been postponed for another week. The day had stretched ahead of them featureless and unpromising, and the summons to the meeting had reached them at a moment when life seemed tame and somber.
Having brought about the gathering, it was Nan’s place to explain the purpose of it, and this she was doing from the only chair the harness room afforded. (It was really a stool with one broken leg, but by careful balancing it was possible to keep seated.)
“It seems to me,” Nan was explaining, “that when you’ve got a perfectly good secret society like this you ought to—to do something with it. We started it to—to resist the tyranny of the upper classes—”
“All for one and one for all!” droned Kid in a sing-song voice.