"Sure now? Take another think. Suppose I told you that his name was Bill, would that help out any?" went on the anxious boy.
"I reckon I know fifty Bills, all told. Nothing, doing. Lanky. But if I happen to think of any stray' Bill not accounted for, why I'll promise to let you know," the accommodating drug clerk observed.
"That's what Frank said, but he didn't call me up. Well, let it go at that. Better drop around about ten, and size up our bunch. You've seen Clifford play, and your opinion about the chances we have, would be prized, Socrates."
"Thanks. That's nice of you, Lanky. I'll try and coax the governor to let me off for an hour or so," and with that Lanky left the shop.
As he drew near the river he found many boys and girls gravitating in that direction. News of the anticipated game with the Wanderers had seeped through the town in the mysterious manner that such things circulate, thanks to the telephone; and every youngster, as well as quite a few older people, made it convenient to find some excuse for being out at the hour set for the start of the hockey match.
Lanky was quickly on the ice, and skating up the river; for it had been decided that the best spot for such sport was about a quarter of a mile above the limits of the town.
