Toby acknowledged it and the pink-faced youth went on cheerfully: “I suppose you’re out for the second. So’m I. Trying for goal. What’s your line?” “Line? Oh, goal, too, I think. Crowell seemed to think I’d better try that.” “Hah! Me hated rival!” exclaimed the other beamingly. “‘Tucker versus Creel, or The Struggle for Goal!’ Sounds exciting, doesn’t it? Know what Crowell’s going to spring on us in a minute?” Toby shook his head, smiling. He found Creel amusing. “Well, he’s going to inform us that to-morrow afternoon we’re expected to go down and build the rink. Last winter I was horribly ill that day.” Sid Creel winked knowingly. “Had a beastly cold. If I was you I’d sneeze a few times and blow my nose. That gives you a chance of coming down with grippe before to-morrow.” “Oh, I guess I shan’t mind helping,” laughed Toby. “How do we do it?” “You lug a lot of planks from under the grand-stand and nail ’em together and drive posts into the ground, which is always frozen solid, and then you shovel dirt up outside the planks. It’s all right if you’re strong and healthy, but to one of my weak constitution it’s fierce. After you get the dirt shoveled up――Did you ever shovel frozen dirt? No? Well, it’s no fun. Last year they had to pick it first. You’d think they’d make the rink before it gets cold, wouldn’t you?” “Why, yes, I should,” agreed Toby. “Why don’t they?” Creel shook his head sadly. “No one knows. It’s a sort of――sort of impenetrable mystery. I guess it just isn’t done. Anyway, after you get the dirt piled up outside the planks you hitch a hose to the hydrant and turn the water on and wait for it to freeze.” “Well, that part sounds easy,” said Toby. “It may sound easy, but it isn’t,” responded the other boy lugubriously. “Because you have to stand around and watch the bank you’ve made. You see, the dirt’s mostly in chunks and of course the water oozes out under the bottom of the planks and you have to yell for help and shovel more dirt on and puddle it down with your feet. And while you’re choking up one leak about thirty-eleven others start. Oh, it’s a picnic――not!” “But look here,” objected Toby, puzzled. “If you were sick last time how do you know so much about it?” Creel gazed sadly across the cage and made no answer for a moment. Then he sighed deeply, and: “They came up to the room and pulled me out,” he answered sadly. “Unfeeling brutes!”