"Sure!" answered Jack triumphantly. With sticks gyrating they sped back to their positions. But Hammond was in no hurry now and the time-keeper kept his eyes carefully on his stop-watch until finally the whistle shrilled again. Then back to the fray went the brown jerseys and over the ice sped the Ferry Hill skates. A rush down the rink and again the Hammond goal was in danger. A quick swoop of Warren's stick and the puck was winging straight for the goal. But a gloved hand met it and tossed it aside. Roy swung circling back and passed across to Jack. Another shot, this time wide of the net. Schonberg and Jack fought it out in the corner and Jack rapped the disk out to Warren. The Hammond cover-point checked his stick and secured the disk, shooting it down the rink. A Hammond forward got it but was off-side. Warren joined him and they faced near the center. A quick pass to Jack and the forwards turned and dug their blades into the ice. Down they came, charging and passing, past cover-point, past point, and then-- Out shot goal and away to the left rolled the puck. Roy, turning after it, shot a quick glance at the time-keeper. Then he was fighting with a Hammond man for possession of the elusive black disk, their bodies crashing against the boards and their sticks flying hither and thither. But Warren came to the rescue, poked the puck out from under the Hammondite's skate and passed it across to Kirby in front of goal. Another try and another stop by the Cherry's goal-tend. And so it went and so went the precious seconds. And then, suddenly, with the puck within a yard of goal once more and Roy's stick raised for a shot, the whistle rang out! "Time's up!" announced Mr. Cobb. Roy turned fiercely. "It can't be up!" he cried, skating toward the referee. "It is, though," was the answer. "That's perfect nonsense!" said Roy hotly. "You said there was two minutes left just a minute ago!" "That'll do, Porter," said Mr. Cobb coldly. Roy dropped his eyes, swallowed something hard in his throat and examined a cut on his hand. Then, "Beg pardon, sir," he said. "This way, fellows! A cheer for Hammond--and make it good!" Well, it wasn't very good. But then you can scarcely blame them when another second would perhaps have tied the score. But they cheered, and Hammond answered it; and the hockey season had ended with a defeat for Ferry Hill. Schonberg skated over to Roy and held out his hand. "You had us on the run, Porter," he said. "If we'd played five minutes longer you'd have won. You've got a slick team, all right! How about next year? You're going to keep the team up, aren't you?" "Sure," answered Roy. "And we're going to lick the stuffing out of you!" The rival captain laughed good-naturedly. "That's right. We've had a dandy time playing you chaps and we'll be ready again next year. Good-bye." "Good-bye," answered Roy as graciously as he could. "Glad you fellows came over." He turned and found Jack beside him.