“But I’ve nobody to put in,” said Alf.
“Play them with six,” replied Andy. “There’s only a matter of four seconds left.”
Andy was right. The puck had no more than been put in play when the timer shouted his warning and the whistle blew. About the rink Yardley triumphed and cavorted. On the ice two weary, panting groups of players cheered each other feebly. On the substitutes’ bench Gerald stirred, sighed and opened his eyes.
“Hello, Andy,” he said weakly and puzzledly. “What’s up?”
“I don’t know what’s up,” answered the trainer dryly, “but you went down.”
“I remember.” Gerald felt of his head gingerly. “Did I——?”
He looked the rest of his question anxiously.
“You did,” answered Andy. “If you don’t believe me just listen to that!”
“That” was a wild tumult of Yardley joy. Gerald smiled, and when he opened his eyes again a moment later Dan and Alf were bending over him solicitously.