"Well, I can try for a while," said Hughie, confidently.

"If you can," said the master, "we've got them," and Hughie settled down into the resolve that, cost what it might, he would stick like a leech to Dan.

He imparted his plan to Fusie, adding, "Now, whenever you see me tackle Dan, run in and get the ball. I'm not going to bother about it."

Half an hour had gone. The score stood two to one in favor of the Front, but the result every one felt to be still uncertain. That last attack of Hughie's, and the master's speedy performance, gave some concern to the men of the Front, and awakened a feeling of confidence in the Twentieth team.

But Dan, wise general that he was, saw the danger, and gave his commands ere he faced off for the new game.

"When that man Craven gets it," he said to the men of the center, "make straight for the goal. Never mind the ball."

The wisdom of this order became at once evident, for when in the face-off he secured the ball, Hughie clung so tenaciously to his heels and checked him so effectually, that he was forced to resign it to the Reds, who piercing the Twentieth center, managed to scurry up the ice with the ball between them. But when, met by Craven and Johnnie Big Duncan, they passed across to Dan, Hughie again checked so fiercely that Johnnie Big Duncan secured the ball, passed back to the master, who with another meteoric flash along the edge of the field broke through the Front's defense, and again shot.

It was only Farquhar Bheg's steady coolness that saved the goal. It was a near enough thing, however, to strike a sudden chill to the heart of the Front goal-keeper, and to make Dan realize that something must be done to check these dangerous rushes of Craven.