an Munro, too, they say he's a terror, and Hec Ross. Of course
we've got just as good men, but they won't fight. Why, Johnnie 'Big
Duncan' and Don, there, are as good as any of them, but they won't
fight."

The mother smiled a little.

"What a pity! But why should they fight? Fighting is not shinny."

"No, that's what the master says. And he's right enough, too, but it's
awful hard when a fellow doesn't play fair, when he trips you up or
clubs you on the shins when you're not near the ball. You feel like
hitting him back."

"Yes, but that's the very time to show self-control."

"I know. And that's what the master says."

"Of course it is," went on his mother. "That's what the game is for, to
teach the boys to command their tempers. You remember 'he that ruleth
his spirit is better than he that taketh a city.'

"O, it's all right," said Hughie, "and easy enough to talk about."

"What's easy enough to talk about?" asked the master, coming up.

"Taking a city," said Mrs. Murray, smiling at him.

The master looked puzzled.

"Mother means," said Hughie, "keeping one's temper in shinny. But I'm
telling her it's pretty hard when a fellow clubs you on the shins when
you're away from the ball."

"Yes, of course it's hard," said the master, "but it's better than being
a cad," which brought a quick flush to Hughie's face, but helped him
more than anything else to keep himself in hand that day.

"Can't understand a man," said the master, "who goes into a game and
then quits it to fight. If it's fighting, why fight, but if it's shinny,
play the game. Big team against us, eh, captain?" he continued, looking
at the Front men, who were taking a preliminary spin upon the ice, "and
pretty swift, too."

"If they play fair, I don't mind," said Hughie. "I'm not afraid of them;
but if they get slugging--"

"Well, if they get slugging," said the master, "we'll play the game and
win, sure."

"Well, it's time to begin," said Hughie, and with a good by to his
mother he turned away.

"Remember, take a city," she called out after him.

"All right, muzzie, I'll remember."

In a few moments the teams were in position opposite each other. The
team from the Front made a formidable show in weight and muscle. At the
right of the forward line stood the redoubtable Dan Munro, the stocky,
tricky, fierce captain of the Front team, and with him three rather
small boys in red shirts. The defense consisted of Hec Ross, the
much-famed a