# The Boys of Columbia High on the Ice/Chapter 23
#### CHAPTER XXIII
##### THE GREAT VICTORY—CONCLUSION

During the ten-minute intermission there was the wildest sort of excitement all through the crowds of spectators. Of course the Columbia backers were wrought up into almost hysterical delight. They had hoped to hold their own, but the fact that their team had scored two goals to Clifford's none was almost too good to be true. Clifford stock took a great tumble about then. All they were hoping for now was a tie.
Lef Seller, who had been openly boasting of what would happen to Columbia, found himself in a fight with an indignant and disgusted fellow student, who accused him of rank treachery. They kept at it, hammer and tongs, until Chief Hogg drew the attention of the sheriff to this infraction of the peace of the community, with the result that the two fellows with discolored optics were carried off to cool in the Columbia lock-up until their fathers could come to the rescue.
​"Time's up! There they go back to work! Now Clifford do something! Get together, boys, and give them some encouragement," and with that the cheer squad from up the river started a song that had in times past inspired their athletes to deeds of valor.
"They need some sort of tonic," jeered Buster, comfortably; "for what Frank Allen and his husky fellows are doing to them this day is a shame!"
It could be seen that Hastings had made a slight change, substituting Hollingsworth for McQuirk, who had showed signs of being rattled in his defense of the net. As for Columbia, there was not a face missing, from Frank all down along the line. And a more determined lot of young athletes certainly never faced one another than those hockey players from the rival schools along the Harrapin.
Hastings had also determined on another change. He now stood up to open play in place of Coots, who had failed to hold Frank more than a third of the time. But it was Lanky Wallace who toed the mark there with the captain of the Clifford seven; for Frank believed it good policy to also make a change, since the enemy must by now be getting familiar with his various dodges to gain possession of the puck.
Lanky was a swift dodger, and could evade being caught in a pinch better than any other of the ​Columbia boys. He could also hold possession of the puck in a way little short of marvelous, now dribbling it along foot by foot, watching in every direction for an aggressive play, and then tantalizingly shoving it forward as if to bait the enemy, only to send it flying off when a hostile move was made.
Hastings lost the first set-to with Lanky. His men, however, were now worked up to top-notch speed. They who had never as yet tasted of defeat in hockey were now being apparently put in a hole by the despised Columbia High Seven. It could be seen that they fought wickedly to get the advantage.
Many times the game was called while the referee warned some of the eager participants against reckless work. Sometimes it was one of Frank's men thus taken to task; but three to one it was a Clifford player; for in their furious efforts these fellows were continually getting offside, and even fouling.
It took over ten minutes for a goal to be shot. Then it was Clifford that gained the point; but as their friends admitted, it had been the hardest fought goal that ever came to them.
Of course Clifford colors waved frantically after this goal had been won; but the Columbia cheers sounded above any noise the up-river people could evoke. It seemed a battle of giants, and was the ​finest thing they had ever seen, no matter which side eventually won.
Once more the battle was on, with Hastings getting the puck, and running with it ten yards and more before he had to shoot it ahead. Away flew the sprinters like the wind, rounding up with a furious swirl as they headed off the spinning rubber, and the hockey sticks got busy with their work.
Every one in the scrimmage did gallant work. When the roll of heroes was made up at the end of the fight not a single name could be left out. There were times when each member of both teams had his turn, and many surprising and bewildering plays were worked with a celerity that called forth involuntary cheers from the gaping crowds, irrespective of which school profited from the wonderful maneuvering.
When fifteen minutes of the second half had gone a tremendous whirlwind of cheers announced that Columbia had managed to get past the able defense of Hollingsworth, and planted the puck in the net of the enemy.
Three to one! And only five minutes more for play!
No wonder Columbia stock went soaring at this point; and that each player under Frank's able lead made up his mind to hold this advantage to the end. The up-river fellows were wild with eagerness to ​get the puck in motion, for every second lost counted with them now. Columbia on the other hand, seemed in no hurry, though of course they did not purposely try to delay the game.
When play had once more started the pace of Clifford was indeed furious. Each member of her team seemed to be possessed with a fire that could not be held in check. But on the other hand the Columbia fellows did everything in their power to hold the puck away from their goal, and many were the magnificent dashes intended to delay matters.
In two minutes the tide of battle had been carried so far that Hastings himself shot the disc for the net. Ralph West, to be known under his new name of Langworthy from this time forth, stood there as the guardian of the interests of his school. And never was a trust more worthily defended.
The puck came flying at him with furious speed; he dared not interpose a part of his body lest he be taken to task by the watchful referee, and a forfeit paid in the way of a goal. So it became necessary that he use his hockey stick to advantage in the breach.
Then it was that the sure eye that had never failed Ralph in his position on the baseball nine, and with his football comrades, came into play. He interposed his stick with such faithful accuracy that the puck was brought to a sudden halt, even as ​it was about to shoot into the net. Then came a swift stroke that sent it caroming over the ice, full fifty feet away, with a horde of eager skaters in pursuit.
"All over!" shouted Buster, standing on his toes to see the finish.
"All but the shouting!" echoed Jack Eastwick; for well did they know that when that swift shot of Hastings headed for the Columbia net it was high water mark in the Clifford advance.
And true enough, the heart seemed to be quite taken from the Clifford seven after that failure of Hastings to make good. They fought on doggedly, but lacked the vim and fire that they had so recently been showing. With but two minutes left it was utterly out of the question to dream of making the twin goals necessary to tie the score, let alone enough to win out.
And presently the referee's whistle signified that the match had reached its legitimate conclusion!
Columbia High had finished her most remarkable year in a blaze of glory! Everything had indeed come her way that season, and it would long remain as the most wonderful in all the history of the famous institution.
Cheers immediately arose, and let it be said to the honor of Columbia that the very first her sons and daughters put up were in honor of the gallant ​Clifford team. Beaten they might be, and for the first time in their history; but there was not an atom of disgrace attached to such a defeat.
And that night it snowed—yes, fully a foot of the feathery stuff came down ere it cleared again; and every fellow along the Harrapin declared that even the weather had been in the conspiracy with Columbia that year, since the storm held off until the last stirring victory had been honorably won.
But though Frank Allen had led his comrades upon so many victorious fields was no reason to believe that there would not appear other valorous athletes in good old Columbia when he was far away in college, earning his sheepskin. So long as that spirit reigned so long would new leaders arise to carry the dearly-loved orange and purple to the front, when rival schools sent their best to try conclusions with the boys of Columbia High.
Columbia High still moves majestically on year after year, turning out her graduating class of thirty-odd young people, and receiving twice as many from the ranks of lower-graded schools. Professor Parke is still in charge, and even honest old "Soggy" looks after the custody of the buildings as of yore, while Mrs. Louden caters to the appetites of the hungry hordes at intermission.
After those Christmias holidays Lef Seller gave our friends no more trouble. That last disgrace, ​when he was arrested for brawling, and locked up for three hours in the town headquarters, seemed to be the last straw on the earners back, so far as his father was concerned.
When Lef failed to return to school, inquiry developed the fact that he had been sent away to a strict military establishment, where it was hoped that he might be disciplined until perhaps he would see his duty toward the father who had always been too indulgent toward him.
Columbia High did not weep, for while there were a few who would miss the leadership of the scapegrace Lef, the balance of the community could heave a sigh of relief. Many a time had his escapades set the entire town in a whirl; and the citizens only hoped it would be a long period ere his equal arose.
Lanky of course, took occasion the very afternoon of the victory over Clifford, to skate up to the Baxter farm in order, as he claimed, to make sure that the long-missing "Willie" was once again restored to the bosom of his family.
He found a happy group, and Bill was already showing an intense interest in the new farm, which he expected to help his father run. And the rosy-cheeked Dora no doubted thanked Lanky for the part he had taken in the restoration of her brother. At any rate. Lanky lingered so long that the storm broke and they would not allow him to start home. ​So he spent two very delightful days up at Baxter's. He, too, seemed to take quite an interest in the farm, as though he contemplated changing his avowed future vocation from that of a lawyer to a tiller of the soil.
Ralph was now known by his new name. His mother purchased a lovely home adjoining Columbia, and Ralph for the first time in all his tempestuous life knew what it was to have such an abiding-place. Of course he and Frank Allen would always be the best of chums; and Frank's pretty sister was a loadstone that frequently drew young Langworthy to the Allen house. Then there were Lanky and Paul, who shared the fond regard of the others—the time would come doubtless when these boys might find themselves scattered far and wide, in the various business pursuits that must occupy their attention after they reached man's estate; but they would never, never forget those glorious days when they fought upon many a stubbornly contested field for the honor of good old Columbia High.
THE END.