new white leg-guards Toby looked very fine that afternoon and managed to convey the impression that he was a real, sure-enough goal-tend! Perhaps Crowell was impressed, for he displayed more interest in Toby than he had since that first talk before Christmas recess. As usual, Toby played at the net in the second period of the practice game with the second, and, perhaps because he was trying to live up to his new togs, got away with a clean score, for not once did the second get the puck into the net. Mr. Loring smiled his satisfaction when Toby passed him on his way off the ice and said: “Good work, Tucker. Keep it up.” Toby went back to an hour’s study before supper feeling rather well pleased with himself, and had it not been for the falling-out with Arnold would have been a very happy youth that evening. As it was, however, even success on the rink couldn’t make him altogether content. He missed Arnold’s companionship horribly. What was the use of making a success of hockey if there was no one to talk it over with? He tried to think of some chap who could take Arnold’s place, but there didn’t seem to be any. He was friendly with quite a number of fellows now, but none of them were intimates. Grover Beech would talk hockey with him by the hour, but his interest paled the moment another subject was introduced. No, Toby could think of no one who would care to listen to his confidences. He got pretty lonely at times about now. When he and Arnold met, Toby’s rather wistful glances went unseen or, being seen, met no response. Arnold always looked over him or past him, coldly and unforgivingly. There were times when Toby was tempted to humble himself, to offer any sort of apology or atonement in return for a re-establishment of their old friendship, but always at the last moment pride or embarrassment intervened. Subsequent to such periods of weakness Toby went to the opposite extreme and sullenly vowed that he would never have anything more to do with Arnold; no, sir, not even if Arnold begged him on his knees! Arnold appeared strangely morose and crabbed those days. At table he was short-tempered and often uncivil. He and Gladwin almost came to blows one evening over a discussion of some perfectly trivial subject, and it finally got so that the others carefully left him alone. All, that is to say, except Homer Wilkins. Arnold’s perversities had no effect on Homer. If Arnold was cross, Homer merely assured him earnestly and good-temperedly that he hoped he would choke.