CHAPTER III – SOCKER’S PLOT

With an amused smile, Mr. Larmore watched Pud as he slouched off up the street.

“Rather a strenuous introduction to Rivertown, you’re having, Watson,” he exclaimed, pleasantly. “Do you mind telling me what Snooks was saying to you?”

“Yes, sir; I do. It was only a personal matter.”

Fate, however, decreed that the principal should learn the cause of the quarrel he had interrupted.

First with surprise, then with thankfulness, Jed Brown had beheld Harry’s intervention – for the aged man, veteran though he was, and bearing the mark of his service for his country in a crippled leg, was considered fair sport by many of the young people in the village, and he was not accustomed to having anyone champion him.

Consequently, when he had seen the school bully threaten Harry, he had hobbled toward the pair as fast as he could, only to arrive just as Mr. Larmore had asked concerning the cause of the trouble.

“It was about me, Mr. Larmore, sir, the fuss was,” declared Jed. “Snooks was throwing snowballs at me and this young man stopped him.” Then, turning to Harry, he continued: “I’ll not forget your kindness, my boy. My name is Jed Brown.” And he extended a trembling hand.

“I’m Harry Watson,” smiled the boy, as he shook hands.

“You ain’t any relation to Amos Watson, of Lawrenceburgh, are you?” inquired the veteran, eagerly.

“He’s my father.”

“Well, well, well!” exclaimed Jed, excitedly, again shaking the boy’s hand. “I’ve known Amos ever since he was knee high to a grasshopper, and there ain’t a finer man in this state, Mr. Larmore. Harry, whenever your skates need sharpening or you feel lonesome, just come around to see me; I live in a little one-story house down at the end of this street. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you, I – ” then, chancing to glance down the street, the boy caught a glimpse of Pud as he poked his head cautiously from behind a tree-trunk, evidently with the purpose of finding out where the veteran was, and he changed his words, saying, “I guess I’ll walk along with you now. I have a knife that needs sharpening badly and I can leave it with you.”

The principal had also seen the bully’s action and he readily understood that Harry had made his knife the excuse for walking home with the old man, that he might protect him from any further attack by Snooks. Yet he feared the bully might waylay the boy and, as the other two set out, fell into step beside them, much to the embarrassment of both.

Arrived at Jed’s house which, though small, was spick and span in appearance, Harry gave him his knife, and after promising to call for it the next afternoon, continued on his way to the school with Mr. Larmore.

The detour which they had made to escort the veteran to his home caused them to be a trifle late in reaching the schoolhouse, and Harry was very glad that none of the scholars were outside to see him walking with the principal, for he feared it might give them the impression that he was a “teacher’s boy.”

But when he entered his classroom, he was the centre of all eyes.

“Grandstand play!” growled Elmer to Socket. “He’s got a swelled head, already, because he steered the sled over the bank. Anybody with any decency wouldn’t have waited until school was in session before he came in.”

“Never mind, we’ll take him down a bit!” returned Elmer Craven’s chum. “Just wait till after school!”

The eye of the instructor chancing to wander in their direction, the two boys buried their heads in their books; and Elmer was forced to forego asking his chum what scheme he was thinking out.

But when school was over for the day, he quickly learned.

“Play hockey, Watson?” asked Socker, joining a group of boys who had gathered about Harry.

“Yes.”

“Then come on down to the river and we’ll have a game.”

“It will depend upon whether my trunk has arrived or not. If it hasn’t come since I was at aunt’s for dinner, I won’t be able to play because my skates are in it.”

“I have an extra pair at the house you can take,” interposed Paul. “The rest of you fellows go down to the river; and Harry and I’ll join you as soon as we can.” And falling into step beside the boy who was soon to become his crony, Paul Martin started down the hill which had been the scene of the memorable incident in the morning.

To his delight, Harry found that his trunk had arrived, and it was but the matter of a very few minutes for him to open it and take out his skates.

At the river, they found a merry crowd of boys and girls, and quickly Harry and Paul sat down to put on their skates.

“Now Sam, you go over and bring Mr. Watson back with you as soon as he’s got his skates on,” commanded Viola, who, with Nettie, had been keeping a lookout for the boy whom she had been unable to meet in the forenoon.

None too willingly, the fellow started, but before he could reach Harry, the boy was on his feet, and hockey stick in hand, was skimming over the ice to where those who were to play were lined up, some quarter of a mile up the river.

“Isn’t that provoking!” pouted Viola, as she noted his action. “But I’m going to meet Harry Watson – even if I have to introduce myself. Come on, Nettie, let’s skate over and watch the game.”

With the arrival of Harry and Paul, Socker exclaimed:

“Watson, you’ll play on Jerry’s team. Let’s get the game started as soon as we can. It’ll be dark before long.”

Quickly the boys took their positions, and Socker and Elmer noticed with delight that the boy who had incited their enmity was playing “rover.”

After the puck was put in play, it was dribbled back and forth; then, as Paul noticed Harry was keeping well out to one side, he shot the rubber to him.

Nursing it carefully, he dashed in, that he might have a less difficult angle from which to try for goal.

“Get him! Block him! Don’t let him score!” cried Socker to his team-mates, and with a rush they skated down upon Harry with tremendous momentum.

For several moments, Jerry watched the strange play of his opponents – for they had left their positions uncovered; then it dawned on him what their purpose was and he charged down to Harry’s rescue, at the same time shouting:

“Shoot it across, Watson! Shoot it across!”

With a deft twist of his wrist, Harry sent the rubber spinning over the ice just in front of Socker and his players.

But instead of checking themselves and going after it, they continued straight at the new student.

Surprised, but believing that their speed was such that they were unable to turn quickly, Harry grinned at them, wheeled on his right skate with a suddenness that would have done a professional proud, and sought to go around them.

Clever as was his move, however, it came too late.

With terrific force, Socker, Elmer and another boy crashed into him – and as they all went down, there was a resounding whack.

“Pretty raw work, Craven!” snapped Jerry, as he caught the richest boy in Rivertown High School by the collar and jerked him off the pile.

“What do you mean?”

Jerry, however, was too engrossed in the task of getting the others off Harry to reply.

But when he had succeeded, the new high school scholar lay on his back, motionless.

CHAPTER IV – HARRY SHOWS HIS GRIT

Abashed at the sight of the boy lying white and still on the ice, the other hockey players gazed at one another.

“He’s shamming!” growled Elmer.

“You know better than that!” retorted Jerry.

“What do you mean?”

“That you and Socker deliberately ran into Watson – and you know it as well as I do!”

“I saw Socker give him the knee!” interposed Paul.

Intense was the feeling between the two teams, and instinctively the boys who had been playing lined up with their respective captains. But before the argument became more bitter, Harry opened his eyes, gazed about him in a dazed manner, and then sat up.

“Got a bit of a knock, didn’t I?” he smiled. “I say, did I score a goal?”

At the question, all the boys turned to look toward the net of Socker’s team, having forgotten in their excitement to notice where the puck had gone.

“Jove, but you did!” cried Paul. “Good boy, Harry!”

Instantly the other members of the team with which Harry was playing took up the cry and Elmer and his companions skated away to hide their chagrin.

“Here comes Longback; we can put him in, and you can get out of the game!” exclaimed Paul, helping Harry to his feet.

“Not much – that is, if you are willing I should keep on playing,” returned Harry. “I’m all right now; and I should like to show those other fellows that I’m not a pillow!”

“But can you stand the handling?” asked Jerry, anxiously.

“Leave it to me – I’m no rag-doll,” retorted Harry. “If they are up to any tricks, I know a thing or two!”

The gameness of the new student appealed to all the members of the team on which he was playing, and without further comment they lined up for the next play.

Surprised to see Harry still in the line-up, Socker skated over to Elmer and held a brief consultation with him, but their whisperings were interrupted by the puck being put into play.

As luck would have it, the rubber was sent straight toward Elmer and, with a clever stop, he dribbled it along toward Harry, evidently thinking that he would be able to pass him easily because of his seemingly dazed condition.

But Harry realized his purpose and, with a burst of speed, he rushed in, snatched the puck, steadied his stick – and then drove it spinning toward the goal net, sending it past the tender.

“Good boy!” shouted his team-mates. And the cheer was immediately taken up by the boys and girls who had gathered to watch the game.

Smarting more under the thought that the fellow they had sought to humiliate had succeeded in turning the tables against them than in the fact that their opponents had scored two goals, Socker called his men about him.

“Play for Watson!” he cried through clenched teeth. “That fellow’s got to have his big head taken off him!”

“Ready!” called the lad who was acting as umpire; and with set teeth, Socker’s men took their positions.

Straight and true for the goal Paul sent the puck, but Snooks checked it just in time to prevent another score, and cleverly Elmer took the rubber through the opposing players until only Harry stood between him and the man at the net.

Gritting his teeth, the new member of the Rivertown High School determined to show that he was an offensive as well as a defensive player. With a terrific rush, he bore down on Elmer Craven, and with a sudden twist of his stick, tripped the fellow, grabbed the rubber, dribbled it out of reach, then sent it spinning with a force that drove it through the net!

Loud were the shouts from the onlookers – but Elmer lay still and quiet.

“You hit him in the head with your stick!” growled Socker, starting toward Harry.

“Nonsense! I play a clean game! Leave it to me – I’ll bring him round in a jiffy!”

And while the others stood inactive, Harry scraped up some ice with his skate and rubbed the shavings on Craven’s face.

“Who’s doing that?” demanded the boy, sitting up.

But his only answer was a general laugh.

“Everybody ready, puck’s going to be put in play!” shouted the umpire, and without delay, the boys took their positions.

“You want to watch out, the whole team will be down on you this time!” warned Jerry to Harry, but the lad only laughed.

“I reckon I can give them as good as they send,” he replied. “It just took me a few minutes to get onto their game. I – ”

But his words were interrupted by the play.

While Snooks caught the rubber and started back with it, all the other members of the team bore down on Harry.

Not seeming to notice them, the boy hurried to the assistance of the goal tender, his pursuers in full cry. Then, with a suddenness that caused the scholars on the side lines to gasp, Harry turned, shoved his stick between the skates of the fellow nearest him, and sent him sprawling on the ice, causing the others to fall on top of him.

Loud was the laughter that rose from the boys and girls who were not in the game, while Jerry and Paul patted Harry on the back.

But several of the instructors happened to be among the spectators and, realizing that the game would soon be beyond the bounds of sport, they intervened.

“Vhy not ve all go and get kindling voods for a bonfire dis efening?” shouted Prof. Schmidt, the genial German professor.

“Yes! Yes! Get wood for a bonfire!” cried the boys and girls on the side lines; and forgetful of the hockey game, they skated across the ice, effectually putting an end to the contest.