a bad fumble by Bolton. Then straight into the goal net flew the puck.
"Hurrah! One goal for Porter's team!"
"That's the way to do it!"
"Humph! They got that by a fluke!" growled Bolton.
"They got it because of your error!" answered one of the students at the side line.
Again the puck was placed in the center of the field, and once more the struggle was renewed. This time the disc was again forced close to the Porter goal, but without avail. Sam sent it back, and Dave shot it to Phil, who whizzed the puck over to Shadow. Then came a mix-up, and the puck flew close to the Poole goal.
"Back with it!" was the cry. "Don't let 'em score another goal!"
A player named Gardener had the puck. He was about to send it to Bolton, when Phil interfered and sent the disc over to Ben Basswood. As Ben swept over the ice with the disc Bolton rushed forward, swinging his hockey stick viciously.
"Look out!" yelled somebody, and many saw a swing of the stick that came dangerously close to Phil's head.
"Bolton, you try that again, and I'll knock you down!" said Phil, his eyes flashing fire as he spoke.
"My—er—my stick slipped," stammered Bol-
