Mackintosh was clearly a star player. He kept his body bent, his arm out straight, and his hockey ever ready for the block to nestle in. And when Thomas backed him, and the rest cleared the way, he was a formidable man to tackle. But "Young America," led by the gallant little corporals, never lost heart or head. They shinnied on all sides, they kept their eyes right on the block, they hit it hard, they "babied" it, they shoved it between legs and hockeys to an open field, and then darted like lightning for it themselves, and they worked tricks which made the more knowing spectators shout with enthusiasm.
The score kept running up, and still the apparently unevenly matched teams kept even. Five goals each, and only five minutes more to play.
"Look out for the long pass and skirting round the edges," said Mackintosh, and Thomas nodded.
The umpire blew his whistle, and once more the forwards charged down upon the block, which became the centre of a fierce scrimmage. Dick hovered on the outskirts, and when the puck flew from between the legs of Smith he caught it on his hockey and started off; to the right of one he dodged, to the left of another, and, when fairly cornered, he managed, by a quick turn and lightning stroke, to hit the ball, and send it whizzing down the pond.
Now there was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lea, and Mackintosh, the big Canadian, got there first. Then squirming and worming, he worked his way up the field. Edith held her breath.
"Hook his hockey! hook his hockey!" cried Charlie, who was guarding the goal, cool even at this critical moment; and he started slowly towards him, hoping to force him out of bounds. But Mackintosh, with Dick hard behind, could not afford to lose speed by dodging, and—crash! the two came together, and together went down, with a sound like falling timbers—giant oaks. The ice shivered, and then split from end to end, a long deep crack; but the game went on, for Dick, with the national honor at stake, could not stop to see what besides the eight-inch ice was cracked, and by a series of never-to-be-surpassed tactics he carried the ball straight up the pond for a winning goal; and then, while the air thrilled to the cloudburst of "Bravos!"—for the officers had basely gone over to the enemy, and were backing America with all the lung-power they could spare from their dignity—he skated back to find Charlie with a bleeding head and broken collar-bone, but mad with delight because his fall had saved the game. The crowd swarmed upon the ice, and the boys were the heroes of the hour. But they bore their honors very modestly, even though Edith declared it to be a double victory.
"They had beaten the Germans by default," she said, "and England by nerve. Any one, to look at the two teams"—here she glanced up at Mackintosh and down at Charlie—"would see that the boys were clearly outclassed; but the great American spirit—"
"And a week of hard practice," put in Mackintosh. "Only got our hockeys yesterday."
"I accept the amendment. The great American spirit, and a week of practice have gained the day."
"Three cheers for the little corporals!" said Von Lutzow. "They have nobly won their spurs. And we, Husaren of the Royal Guards, who cannot fight with crooked sticks, will be proud to cross swords with them at any time."