That Taylor and Crocker and some of the other candidates[78] had been busy was evident from the first—Taylor especially, Dick told himself bitterly.
“Try for the crew?” said one senior whom Dick approached, “why, Roy Taylor was speaking to me about it, and I promised him I’d think it over. But I don’t see how I can, Hope; you know yourself how beastly hard the studies are this term; I’m an awful duffer at mathematics, and German, too; and then as for physics—well, really I can’t see how I’m ever going to pass.” And when Dick pointed8 out modestly enough that he (Dick) had the same studies and was going in for rowing, and expected to graduate notwithstanding, the other waived10 the argument aside carelessly: “Oh, you, Hope! You’re different; you’re one of those lucky beggars that never have any trouble with lessons. Why, if I was like you I wouldn’t hesitate an instant; I’d say put me down for the crew right away. But as it is—— By the way, is it true that you’ve only got twenty candidates?”
“Who told you that?” asked Dick.
“Taylor, I think. That isn’t very many, is it? I don’t see how you’ll get a crew out of that.”
“Nor do I,” muttered Dick, as he turned away discouraged.
When Saturday came, bringing Carl Gray at two o’clock with the suggestion that Dick join him and witness the hockey match with St. Eustace, the latter concluded that he had earned a vacation, and so donned his warmest[79] sweater and jacket and allowed himself to be torn away from the subject of candidates. As the two lads crossed the yard toward the steps that led down to the river by the boat-house they encountered Trevor, who, when their destination was made known to him, turned about and joined them. It was a bitterly cold day, and the wind, sweeping12 down the broad river, nipped ears and noses smartly. Despite this, however, a fair-sized audience had assembled on the ice near the landing, where a rink had been marked out, and were either circling about on skates or tramping to and fro to keep warm.
“Haven’t begun yet,” said Carl Gray as they reached the head of the steps. “Looks as though they were having a debate instead of a hockey match.”
As they reached the ice they saw that the captain of the Hillton team, an upper middle youth named Grove13, was in earnest conversation with a St. Eustace player—apparently14 the captain of the opposing team—while a circle of interested boys surrounded them. As the three approached the gathering15 broke up, and Grove, spying Dick, came toward him looking angry and indignant.
“Say, Hope, what do you think? St. Eustace wants to play that big dub16 over there; see him? The fellow with the white sweater. Why, he’s twenty-two if he’s a day! And he isn’t a St. Eustace fellow at all; Brown knows him. He lives at Marshall and works in a mill or something. I’ve[80] told French that we wouldn’t play if they put him on. Don’t you think that’s right?”
“He does look rather big and aged11 for a St. Eustace chap,” replied Dick with a grin. “And of course if you’re certain he’s an outsider you’re right not to give in. What does the St. Eustace captain say?”
“Oh, he says the fellow’s a day scholar; that he’s only eighteen; and that they haven’t brought any subs, and that if Billings—that’s the mucker’s name—if Billings can’t play there won’t be any game.”
“Queer thing to come all the way up here without any subs,” said Carl. “But I tell you what you can do, Grove; offer to lend them a man. What does Billings play?”
“Forward,” grumbled17 Grove. “We might do that. Who could we give them?”
“You’d have to give them a good player,” said Dick.
“I suppose so. Well, there’s Perry over there.”
“No, you don’t,” laughed Dick. “I know Perry; I talked with him the other day; he’s the fellow you dropped from the team last week.” Grove looked sheepish.
“Well, what business have they got trying such tricks?” he muttered in extenuation18. “I guess I’ll offer them Jenkins; he really is a good player, Hope; you know that yourself; I’ll put Dennison in his place. And if I do they’ll likely beat us.”
“Let ’em. Go ahead and make the offer.”
[81]
Grove sped away and promptly19 returned with the announcement that St. Eustace had agreed. “But we want another goal umpire. Will you act, Hope?” Dick would, and was led away. The rink was cleared of spectators, and Trevor and Carl found places of observation on the side-line. The opposing teams took their places. The Hillton players wore crimson20 sweaters and stockings; before the St. Eustace goal were six blue-clad youths and one crimson, the latter being Jenkins, the borrowed forward. Grove and French, the St. Eustace captain, faced the puck, the referee21 cried “Play!” and the game was on.
It proved a brilliant game, despite the high wind that seriously handicapped the side having the down-river goal. Hillton’s playing in the first half was quick and plucky22, and for the first ten of the twenty minutes St. Eustace’s goal was almost constantly in danger. But try after try was foiled by the brilliant work of the Blue’s goal-tend, who time and again won the applause of the shivering audience. Then St. Eustace secured the puck and forced the playing, and for a few minutes Hillton seemed to be taken off her feet. A beautifully lifted stroke finally sent the puck skimming through Hillton’s goal, and the St. Eustace players waved their sticks in delight. Hillton braced23 when play began again, and was dribbling25 the disk threateningly toward the Blue’s goal when time was called.
“I wish I had Jenkins back,” complained Grove as, bundled in his blanket, he joined Trevor and Carl. “He[82] played better than any fellow on our team—or theirs either, for that matter.”
“Who shot that goal?” asked Carl.
“French; it was a dandy. Our little friend Billings yonder looks mad, doesn’t he?”
The displaced player had joined the St. Eustace team, and was evidently bemoaning26 his fate. He was a tall, freckle-faced youth who, as Grove had said, appeared every day of twenty-one or two. He had a slouchy stoop to his shoulders, but nevertheless looked dangerous as a hockey player. Dick joined the other three lads.
“I just heard your freckled-faced friend explaining why it is you’ll never make a good player, Grove,” he announced. “He says you don’t get low enough; says he could put you off your feet easily.”
“He does, eh?” grunted27 Grove. “I wish we’d let him play; I’d put him off his feet, the big mucker!”
“There, there, keep your sweet little temper,” laughed Dick. “And come on; time’s up.” The crowd took up its position along the boundary lines again, and again the puck was put in play. Hillton had good luck at the start. Superb team work on the part of the crimson-clad forwards took the disk down to within striking distance of their opponents’ goal, and a quick drive by Grove sent it through. St. Eustace’s goal-tend looked surprised and vexed28, and the audience cheered delightedly. Four minutes later the same proceeding29 was repeated, and after two ineffectual tries the[83] puck slid through between the goal-tend’s skates just where he apparently didn’t expect it to go. That was Dennison’s score, and again the onlookers30 voiced their pleasure. The score was now two to one in Hillton’s favor, and St. Eustace shook herself together and played hard. For ten minutes neither side scored. Then, by a brilliant rush down the side of the rink, Jenkins, the borrowed player, fooled the Hillton cover-point, and, aided by French, ran past point and lifted the disk through between the Hillton posts—a difficult shot that won him lots of applause. The score was now tied, with a scant31 five minutes of play left.
Trevor and Carl, deeply intent on the game, suddenly had their attention diverted by a voice from near at hand. “What do you think of that, now? What do those fellers in red think they’re playing, billiards32? O-oh, ain’t that awful!” It was the deposed33 St. Eustace forward, Billings, who was celebrating the Blue’s recent goal, and revenging himself on his enemies by ridiculing34 the home players. Carl glared, and the throng35 surrounding him looked hostile to a boy.
“He ought to have sense enough to keep his mouth shut,” said Carl.
“Yes, but he’s got pluck to talk that way in this crowd,” replied Trevor with a grin.
“Not a bit; he knows he’s safe enough. It isn’t likely that fifty or sixty fellows would jump on one lone6 chap, no matter how cheeky he was.”
[84]
The ridicule36 continued, but after the first recognition of the affront37 the throng of Hilltonians tacitly ignored the freckle-faced youth; indeed, in another minute his existence was forgotten, for with but a couple of minutes to play St. Eustace’s point secured the puck, and with a fine stroke sent it sailing down the rink into Hillton territory, where a misplay on the part of the Crimson’s cover-point gave Jenkins his opportunity, and the next instant Hillton’s goal was besieged38. A stroke at close quarters was blocked, and the disk skimmed toward the side of the rink, only to be again recovered and dribbled39 forward until it was once more in the possession of the redoubtable40 Jenkins. There was a rush by Grove and another Hillton forward, the sound of clashing sticks, and then out from the mêlée like a shot from a cannon41 sped the puck, straight for the goal and about two feet above the ice. The Hillton goal-tend leaped to the left and turned to receive the disk on his padded thigh42. But he was too late. The puck struck him, but was only slightly deflected43, and in another moment the St. Eustace sticks were waving high in air, and the goal-tend, crestfallen44 and dazed, was ruefully rubbing his hip45. Hillton returned resolutely46 to the battle, and the puck was again faced, but time was called ere it was well out of the scrimmage, and the game was St. Eustace’s by three goals to two. Trevor turned away in disappointment, and was confronted by the triumphant47 Billings, who was whirling his stick about his head and grinning provokingly.
[85]
“Oh, easy, easy! Those kids can’t play hockey; they ought to be at home doing needlework.” Carl muttered something uncomplimentary, and Trevor reddened as they pushed their way through the dissolving throng. Billings, spying Trevor as he approached, thrust himself in his path.
“Say, sonny, why don’t you kids learn the game?”
Trevor strove to keep his temper and pass, but the Marshall youth laid a determining hand on his arm.
“You see, sonny, what you Hillton kids want to do is to learn how to skate, see? There ain’t any use trying to play hockey until you can skate.”
Trevor turned and smiled very sweetly.
“Perhaps you think you can skate?” he asked in a tone of polite inquiry48.
“I have a hunch49 that way,” replied Billings with a swagger.
“That’s very nice,” answered Trevor, “because you don’t look as though you could, you know.”
A circle of interested Hilltonians had already formed, and were grinning their appreciation50. Billings appeared somewhat astounded51 for an instant. Then he thrust his jaw52 out aggressively, and asked angrily:
“Say, what’s the matter with you, kid? Do you think you can teach me anything about skating?”
“Well, of course, I’m a month or two younger than you, you know”—here the crowd snickered impolitely—“but[86] I rather fancy that I can beat you by a few yards in a half-mile race. Would you care to try?”
For a moment Billings looked doubtful. Possibly he thought that he had unwittingly encountered the school’s crack skater, and feared for the result. If he did the idea was dispelled53 by Trevor’s next remark.
“They don’t call me much of a skater here, you know; we have several fellows who can beat me without trouble, but they’re all rather busy just at present, and so, if you don’t mind putting up with something ordinary, I’ll be glad to show you what I can about skating.” The gentle patronage54 of Trevor’s tones was beautiful, and the audience hugged itself gleefully. Billings laughed loudly and scornfully.
“You will, eh? Say, you’re awfully55 nice, aren’t you? Mama know you’re out?” Trevor reddened but kept his temper.
“I fancy I could beat you by about twenty yards in a half mile,” he said musingly56.
That was the last straw, and Billings elbowed his way toward the boat-house landing.
“Get your skates on, sonny, and I’ll show you what you don’t know about skating.”
“Where can I get a pair?” asked Trevor, addressing the fellows about him.
“Get Grove’s; what size shoe do you wear?” asked Carl. “Five? They ought to fit; wait here and I’ll get them.” And he hurried off.
[87]
“Do you think you can beat him, ’Ighness?” asked one of the crowd.
“I fancy so; anyhow, I’ll do my best.” Carl returned with Groves57 skating-boots, to which were screwed a superb pair of hockey skates. Trevor tried them on, and found that they fitted perfectly58. News of the proposed race had spread, and those who had started toward their rooms had returned, while the two hockey teams, having taken off their skates and donned their heavy clothing, also joined the throng. Billings swept up majestically59, and Trevor, who had been trying his skates in short circles, joined him.
“Suppose you skate around Long Isle60 and back,” suggested Grove; “that’s about a half mile. We’ll draw a mark here for the finish. I say, French, you might act as judge at the finish. Dick, you start them, will you?”
“Standing9 start?” asked Dick.
Trevor looked inquiringly at Billings. “Doesn’t matter to me,” growled62 that youth.
“All right. On your marks,” said Dick. “You’re to skate to the right, around Long Isle, and return here, crossing this line in this way from below. Is that satisfactory?”
Trevor nodded and felt for a hold with his rear blade, and Billings uttered another growl61.
“On your marks!—Set!—Go!”
Away they sped, Billings slightly in the lead, having learned the science of quick starting from his hockey experience. They crossed the river diagonally, heading for[88] the down-stream end of the island, Billings bending low, hands clasped behind his back, in the approved style of American racers; Trevor more erect63, arms swinging by his sides, and apparently putting forth much less effort than his competitor.
“Carl, can Nesbitt skate?” asked Dick somewhat anxiously. Carl shook his head.
“Don’t ask me. I never met him until the other day. But he can skate; we can see that; the question is how well?”
“I hope he’ll win, if only to shut that bragging64 mucker up. Hello, look there!”
Carl looked and uttered a groan65 of dismay. Long Isle, lying almost abreast66 of the boat landing and about two thirds way across the river, is in reality composed of not one, but two islands, the second, scarcely twenty yards long, being separated from the main expanse at its lower end by a scant two yards of ice-covered channel. This fact had been overlooked, and now the watchers saw, at first with surprise and then with annoyance67, that the skaters had parted company. Billings had headed for the channel, while Trevor, holding to a close interpretation68 of the agreement, was making for the end of the smaller island. The next moment Billings was out of sight; another instant and Trevor too had disappeared.
“If Nesbitt can overcome that handicap he’s a good one,” muttered Dick.
[89]
“That’s so,” Carl assented69. “It means a good fifty yards lost, I guess.” Some of the boys had hurried across the ice to the island, and from a point of vantage near its northern end were to be seen waving their arms wildly. But the throng at the finish could gather no hint from their gestures as to the progress of the racers.
“Evidently a misunderstanding there,” said French, the St. Eustace captain, approaching Grove. “Which is Long Isle?”
“Both of ’em,” grunted Grove.
“Well, but——”
“Oh, it’s all right, I guess; Billings wasn’t supposed to know; it was my fault; I forgot about that plaguy little bunch of land beyond there. The fellow that crosses first wins,” he added decisively. “What do you say, Hope?”
“That’s right; Billings couldn’t know that he was supposed to go around both islands.”
“Very well,” answered French, “but I’m sorry there was any misunderstanding. Your man may think that he might have won if it hadn’t been for the mistake.”
“He may win anyhow,” said Dick dryly. “The race isn’t over yet.” French looked to see if Dick was joking, but finding no signs of levity70, smiled politely and deprecatingly, and moved off. The next moment the boys on the island left their places and came scrambling71 back across the ice, and then a skater came into view around the up-river end of the island and headed for the finish.
[90]
“It’s Billings,” said Dick in disappointed tones. But ere the words were out of his mouth a second form sped into sight, and a cheer went up from the watchers. Trevor was apparently but a half dozen yards behind, and, although as the racers were coming directly toward the group it was impossible to be certain on that point, seemed to be gaining at every stride.
Carl slapped Dick boisterously72 on the shoulder and then hugged him ecstatically. “Can ’Is ’Ighness skate, Dick? Can he skate?”
“Can he!” howled Dick. “Look, he’s even with him; he’s—by Jupiter, Carl, he’s ahead of him!”
He was; and not only ahead now, but leading by a good three yards. Every voice was raised in shouts of encouragement, and cries of “Hurry up, Billings!” “Come on, Nesbitt!” “You can beat him! Brace24 up!” “Bully for Hillton!” broke into the frosty air as the two racers, bearing down swiftly, almost silently, on the finish line, sped nearer and nearer.
Twenty yards away Trevor threw a fleeting73 glance over his shoulder at his straining rival, and then, suddenly bending lower over the leaden-hued surface, fairly left the other standing and shot through the lane in the crowd and over the line a winner by ten long yards!
A winner by ten yards.
And how Hillton howled!
“Even old ‘Turkey’ couldn’t beat that!” exulted74 Carl.
Trevor swung about near shore and skated leisurely[91] back to where Billings, red-faced and panting, was explaining to French and the rest of the St. Eustace team how it happened. But his friends looked utterly75 bored at his narrative76, and turned away one by one toward the landing steps. Trevor came to a stop a yard in front of the tall, freckle-faced youth, who paused in his explanation and regarded him angrily. The crowd hushed its chatter77 in delighted anticipation78. Trevor thrust his hands under his sweater and regarded Billings with a wealth of genial79 condescension80.
“Any time you’d like to learn more about skating,” he remarked sweetly, “come up. I’m always at leisure Saturday afternoons.”
Then he nodded amiably81 and skated away ere the outraged82 Billings could summon his scattered83 wits to the rescue of his equally scattered dignity.
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1
chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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waylaid
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| v.拦截，拦路( waylay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dens
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| n.牙齿，齿状部分；兽窝( den的名词复数 )；窝点；休息室；书斋 | |
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4
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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complaisance
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| n.彬彬有礼，殷勤，柔顺 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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waived
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| v.宣布放弃( waive的过去式和过去分词 )；搁置；推迟；放弃（权利、要求等） | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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dub
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| vt.（以某种称号）授予，给...起绰号，复制 | |
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grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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extenuation
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| n.减轻罪孽的借口；酌情减轻；细 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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referee
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| n.裁判员．仲裁人，代表人，鉴定人 | |
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plucky
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| adj.勇敢的 | |
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braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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dribbling
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| n.（燃料或油从系统内）漏泄v.流口水( dribble的现在分词 )；（使液体）滴下或作细流；运球，带球 | |
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bemoaning
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| v.为（某人或某事）抱怨( bemoan的现在分词 )；悲悼；为…恸哭；哀叹 | |
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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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onlookers
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| n.旁观者，观看者( onlooker的名词复数 ) | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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billiards
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| n.台球 | |
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deposed
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| v.罢免( depose的过去式和过去分词 )；（在法庭上）宣誓作证 | |
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ridiculing
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| v.嘲笑，嘲弄，奚落( ridicule的现在分词 ) | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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affront
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| n./v.侮辱，触怒 | |
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besieged
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dribbled
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| v.流口水( dribble的过去式和过去分词 )；（使液体）滴下或作细流；运球，带球 | |
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redoubtable
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| adj.可敬的；可怕的 | |
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cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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deflected
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| 偏离的 | |
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crestfallen
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| adj. 挫败的，失望的，沮丧的 | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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hunch
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| n.预感，直觉 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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dispelled
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| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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57
groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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isle
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| n.小岛，岛 | |
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61
growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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63
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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bragging
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| v.自夸，吹嘘( brag的现在分词 )；大话 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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66
abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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interpretation
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| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
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69
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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levity
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| n.轻率，轻浮，不稳定，多变 | |
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71
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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boisterously
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| adv.喧闹地，吵闹地 | |
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fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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exulted
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| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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77
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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80
condescension
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| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
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81
amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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82
outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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83
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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