“We’ll take three Broadwood punches, please.” “I don’t know those,” said the clerk, smiling doubtfully. “Spring it.” “There ain’t no such thing,” answered Homer. “Give him the regular Yardley drink,” advised a hostile voice from further along the counter. “Just fill a glass with hot air.” Toby was beginning to wonder when the trouble would start, but at the sound of the last voice Arnold leaned forward with a grin and, “Hello, Tony!” he called. “How’s the boy?” “Hello, Arn! That you shooting your silly mouth off? Come down here and have something.” “Can’t, thanks. How’s everything back in the hills?” But Tony was making his way to them and an instant later Toby and Homer were being introduced to “Mr. Spaulding, the world-famous athlete.” Tony Spaulding proved to be a fine-looking fellow of seventeen or eighteen with a remarkable breadth of shoulders and a pair of snapping black eyes. Four other Broadwood boys were haled forward and introduced, and presently, armed with glasses, they crowded around a diminutive table in the rear of the store and hobnobbed very socially. Toby gathered during the course of the ensuing conversation that Tony Spaulding was the identical left tackle who had caused so much trouble to Yardley last November, although Toby would never have recognized him in his present apparel. It also appeared that Mr. Spaulding was a prominent member of the Broadwood hockey squad and that he was looking forward with much glee to meeting Arnold on the ice a month or so later. Another member of the Broadwood contingent was dragged into the limelight with the remark: “Towle, here, is going to play goal for us this year, Arn. Johnny, you want to watch out for this shark, Deering, when we play ’em. If you see him coming, spread yourself, boy, spread yourself! And maybe you’d better yell for help, too!” It was almost dark when they tore themselves away from their friends, the enemy, and set out for home, and quite dark by the time they climbed the hill and reached the radiance of the lighted windows, Toby bearing his new hockey stick with tender solicitude lest its immaculate surface be scratched and Homer regretting the fact that he had intended buying some peanut taffy and had forgotten it.