"Oh, forget it!" growled Joe, pulling the collar of his red sweater higher
about his neck and turning a disgusted back to the rink. "That's 14 to 3,
isn't it? Well, it must be pretty near over, that's one comfort! Hello,
here comes Whipple. Gee, but he makes me tired! Always trying to mix with
the fellows. I wonder if he was born with that ugly smile of his. He's
coming this way," Joe groaned. "He thinks I'm such a nice little boy and
says he hopes my heart is of gold to match my hair! Wouldn't that peev
you?"

"Ah, Brewster," greeted Mr. Whipple, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder,
"how goes it today?" He accorded Kenneth a curt nod.

"Going bad," growled Joe.

"Well, well, we must take the bad with the good," said the instructor
sweetly. "Even defeat has its lesson, you know. Now--"

But Kenneth didn't hear the rest. Grafton Hyde was beside him with a slip
of paper in his hand.

"Say, Garwood," said Grafton loudly enough to be heard by the audience near
by, "I wish you'd tell me about this. It's your subscription slip. These
figures look like a one and two naughts, but I guess you meant ten dollars
instead of one, didn't you?"

"No," answered Kenneth calmly.

"Oh! But--only a dollar?" inquired Grafton incredulously.

The fellows nearest at hand who had been either watching the game or