“Yes, I dare say, but Henry let a lot of shots get by him that never ought to have been caged. Say, when’s Hen coming back? Lamson’s an awful frost as a goal-tend.” “About two weeks from now, he thinks,” replied Halliday. “He flunked in German and got about a dozen conditions in other things.” “Only a dozen?” asked Homer. “Well, if it takes him as long to make up as it’s going to take me he will be back about June.” “I wish he was back now,” said Fanning, gloomily. “Warren Hall won’t do a thing to us to-morrow. Those chaps were born with hockey sticks in their mouths, I guess.” “Frank hasn’t made a bad showing,” said Arnold. “I don’t say he’s as good as Henry, but I think he’s a pretty fair goal-tend.” “Lamson couldn’t stop a medicine-ball if you rolled it at him,” jeered Fanning. “Maybe he might if he’d stick around the net, but he thinks he has to skate out and play point most of the time. Loring told him yesterday that if he didn’t stay where he could touch the net all the time he’d have him tied to it.” “You’re prejudiced, I guess,” said Arnold warmly. “Other fellows think Frank’s doing mighty well. I’ve heard lots of them say so, too. He hasn’t had the experience that Henry’s had, of course, but he certainly made some nice stops to-day.” “All right, I don’t know anything about it,” agreed Fanning. “But I do know that Warren Hall will shoot him so full of holes to-morrow that he will look like a blooming sieve. Why, hang it, Arn, Toby Tucker here can play goal better than Lamson right now! And Tucker never played hockey until this winter!” “Neither did Frank――much,” defended Arnold. “He played about a month on the second last year――” “He may get the hang of it,” interposed Ted Halliday, entering the discussion, “but I think you’re dead wrong, Arn, when you say he can play goal. To my mind he was never meant for a goal-tend. He’d make a much better cover point, because he’s a good stick-handler and skates well and is heavy enough to keep his feet when he’s checked. But he’s dead slow at the net. If Henry doesn’t get back I’ll wager you anything you like that Tucker plays goal against Broadwood.” “Right!” agreed Fanning. Arnold shrugged his shoulders. Toby sat up suddenly and almost choked on the cracker he was eating. “Me!” he ejaculated. “Surest thing you know,” asserted Fanning. “If Henry doesn’t work off his conditions――” “There’s only you and Lamson,” interrupted Halliday. “Unless they swipe some fellow from the second, and I don’t know who he’d be. You’re a heap better than Warren, aren’t you?” “I――I suppose I’m a little better,” allowed Toby. “Yes, and Warren’s a lot better than that new fellow, Guild. All you’ll have to do is to beat out Lamson, and if you can’t do that I hope you choke.” This was from Fanning. Arnold laughed. “I’d be glad to see Toby get it,” he said, “but I don’t believe Lamson is as bad as you fellows think he is. Anyway, Crowell is satisfied with him.”