Hugh was in a dilemma.  He knew that to win out he must have an infusion of new blood, for those husky players of the local school were too rapid for the Scranton boys.  But, according to the rules of the game, substitutes can only be allowed in case of serious injury.  So, unless one of his player chanced to be hurt in such a way as to necessitate his withdrawal from the game there could be no changes made in the line-up.

This is so hedged about with safeguards against fraud that even if a player is hurt he must be examined by someone competent to say whether he may be able to commence work again inside of seven minutes; and if so, the game must proceed.  Should he be excused from further participation in the contest his captain may have the privilege of putting in another man; or, if he chooses to play with only six on the ice, the other side must also eliminate a player, so as to make the line-up equal.

Perhaps some of Hugh’s comrades must have guessed what was gripping their leader around that time.  Nothing else could have induced Smith, for instance, to say, as he did to Hugh, while they were resting in preparation for the last half of the game to start in: 

“I’m awfully ashamed of that rotten run I made, Hugh, when you handed me the rubber so handsomely.  If I’d known my business as I should I’d have landed it in the wire cage as snug as anything.  But I fumbled, and that Conway got it away from me, the robber.  I’m no good, Hugh; and I’d give a heap if only you could kick me out of the game, and get a better substitute.”

“It can’t be done, Just,” Hugh told him; “a player has to be pretty badly hurt to be dropped, you know, and a substitute taken on.  Cheer up, and get a fresh start.  Two goals shouldn’t be a hard job for us to tackle, once we get going at our old pace.  There are a few tricks left in the bag still, before we reach the bottom.”

“But, see here, I’m pretty lame at that, after the stumble and fall I had, Hugh,” said “Just” Smith eagerly; “perhaps the referee would let me throw up my job if he saw how badly my shin has been scraped.”

“Oh! you’re in pretty good shape still, ‘Just,’ and you know it,” remarked Hugh, smiling at the evident determination of his friend to sacrifice himself for the general good.  “When we start play again we’ll try the last dodge Mr. Leonard taught us, and see if it’ll work for a goal.  It’s clean sport, and nothing tricky, you know.”

So “Just” Smith shrugged his shoulders, and did not seem at all happy, though he let the matter drop.  Hugh wondered, though, what that grim look on his face meant, and, later on, had a hazy idea that he had found out.

The game started again.  Encouraged by their success, Belleville again took matters in their own hands and forced the fighting.  There were several weak places in the Scranton High line-up.  Many who diagnosed the play were of the opinion that the game was already as good as lost.