“Oh, I forgot. Are you going to make the team? Arthur says you’re a good player.”
“I won’t make it this year, I guess,” Gerald answered. “Isn’t it cold? I must go on or I’ll freeze fast to the bridge here.”
In his room he took the cup out of the bag and set it on the table, tossing the bag aside, and while he warmed himself at the radiator he admired it and wondered whether Yardley would be able to keep it out of the clutches of her rival. It would, he reflected, be an awful shame if Broadwood should succeed in winning it for good. But whoever won it, he was going to see that there was another cup to take its place. After awhile it occurred to him that if he was not going to be late for hockey practice he would have to hurry. So he left the room, ran downstairs and sped across the yard to the gymnasium. Alf and some of the others were just starting down to the rink as he reached the door.
“I got the cup, Alf,” he said. “It’s in my room. Shall I bring it over this evening?”
“Why, no, you might as well keep it until Saturday, I guess. Get your togs on, Gerald, and hurry down. If Andy comes in tell him I’ve gone ahead.”
There was a stiff practice that afternoon, a good three quarters of an hour of it, followed by two twenty-minute periods with the Second Team, for to-morrow’s session was to be brief and light, only sufficient to keep muscles limber. Gerald took part in the preliminary work and then wrapped himself against the cold and became official timekeeper while the First and Second Teams went at each other hammer and tongs. The weather was conducive to fast work, and in the first period Alf’s players managed to score four goals to the Second’s one. In the second half all the substitutes had their chances and Gerald tried his best to make good. But he was over-anxious and, being light, always got the worst of it in a mix-up. Eager to distinguish himself, he over-skated time and again and lost the puck, and Alf called constant warnings to him.
“Careful, Gerald! There, you’ve done it again! Use both hands on that stick, man! You can’t do anything that way!”
He turned to Dan and added: “If Gerald could use his stick as well as he can use his skates he would make a good player.”
Dan smiled.