“In three weeks, my boy, if you buckle down to it you’ll be quite good enough. At least, you’ll be as good or better than any other goal that’s in sight now. If Henry comes back in time――” “Yes, sir, I know,” murmured Toby. “Know what?” “That he will play goal if he gets off probation.” “Hm; well, if he does it will be your fault, Tucker.” “My fault, sir? You mean that――that――” “I mean that if you get along the way I expect you to it won’t matter a mite to us whether Henry gets back or not! You tell yourself every day, Tucker, that you are going to make a better goal-tend than Henry or Lamson. Then prove you’re right. Good-night!” After the door had closed behind his visitor Toby did a most undignified thing. He took a run across the worn old carpet and plunged headfirst onto the bed. It was certainly taking chances, but the bed, although it rattled and groaned and creaked in all its joints, withstood the assault. After that Toby wriggled his feet to the floor, sat up on the side of the cot and, with hands plunged deep into his pockets and gaze fixed on the opposite wall, muttered “_Gee!_” ecstatically. And after a moment he said it again: “_Gee!_” Just like that. CHAPTER XVI ABSENT FROM CHAPEL There was no opportunity to tell Arnold of the wonderful news until the next morning after breakfast. Then he pulled his chum upstairs to Number 12 and recounted the whole stupendous happening to him. Arnold was delighted, but not as delighted as Toby thought he should have been. And the reason appeared a minute later when Arnold said doubtfully: “I think myself you’ve got the making of a mighty good goal, T. Tucker, only it seems to me you’ll need a good deal more practice than you can get this year. I wouldn’t be too set up over what Loring says. Of course he was right about your being a good one and all that, but Loring is sort of――of visionary, I guess. I mean――” “I don’t think he’s visionary at all,” replied Toby indignantly. “He talks mighty practical horse-sense, Arn. How do you mean, visionary?” “Well, he’s great for what he calls ‘tactical playing’: believes in planning everything out beforehand and all that. Any one knows that you can’t plan a hockey game, because you can’t tell beforehand what’s going to develop. Frank says, too, that Loring wasn’t much of a player when he was in college. He never made the varsity seven, anyway. He was just substitute one year, or maybe two.” “He was football captain, though,” defended Toby. “I know that, but being football captain doesn’t make you a good hockey coach, does it?” “Maybe he was too busy to make the hockey team. If a fellow is captain of the football team he wouldn’t have much time for other things, it seems to me. And he was captain of his hockey team here at Yardley, because he told me so.”