That was the afternoon preceding the game with St. John’s, and it wasn’t until the next morning that it became certain that the game could be played. But a sharp fall in temperature during the early hours set the ice again and by three o’clock it was in fairly good shape. That game wasn’t very exciting, for St. John’s showed a woeful lack of practice and Yardley ran away with the event in the first half and only supplied a spice of interest in the last period by throwing an entire team of substitutes in. Toby, with many a better player, watched the contest from the bench outside the barrier, sweatered and coated against the cold of the afternoon but ready at any moment to throw wraps aside and leap, like Mr. Homer’s Achilles, full-panoplied into the fray. Still Toby didn’t really expect to be called on to save the day, and he wasn’t. Flagg and Framer played point and played it quite well enough. Frank Lamson took Henry’s place at goal in the second period and it was against Frank that St. John’s was able to make its only two tallies. The first team forwards, Crowell, Crumbie, Rose and Deering, showed some fine team work that afternoon and won frequent applause, but, as Sid Creel said to Toby, most any one could have got past those St. John’s fellows. Halliday showed himself a really remarkable cover point, and he and Flagg worked together like two cog-wheels. The final score was 12 to 2, and it was very generally agreed that Captain Crowell had material for a fine team and that Yardley had made a good start on her way to the championship. After the contest was over, willing hands swept the ice surface and the third and fourth squads staged a battle which, if not quite so skillful, had it all over the big show for excitement and suspense. As Sim Warren, who had been playing goal for the fourth squad, was not on hand, Stillwell, presiding in the absence of Loring Casement, looked about for some one to take his place. Stillwell had little data to work on and so solved the problem by moving the cover point to point and the point back to the net, and filling the vacant defense position with a substitute forward. Toby’s emotion at finding himself in charge of the fourth squad’s goal was principally that of alarm. Ever since Crowell’s remark to the effect that in his estimation Toby might make a good goal-tend, Toby had secretly longed to play that position, but this was so――well, so sort of sudden! He had watched Henry preside at the net time and time again, watched admiringly and enviously, and theoretically at least knew the duties of the office, but he was possessed by grave doubts of his ability to profit by his observations. However, he had no choice in the matter. Some one helped him strap on a pair of pads, some one else thrust a wide-bladed goal-tender’s stick into his hands and thirteen youths awaited his pleasure with ill-concealed impatience. Then Stillwell blew his whistle, dropped the puck and skated aside, and the battle was on.