“Don’t you believe it, Mister,” chortled a boy standing near by, whose jersey was decorated with the letters “S.  H. S.,” standing, of course, for Scranton High School.  “That fellow is only our Nick Lang, who was born and brought up in our home town.  The place was never proud of that face until this great day, because Nick, you see, has been the worst boy ever known in Scranton.  Why, his escapades would take a week to tell you.  He used to be the terror of everybody, the bully all boys feared and shunned.  But it seems like Nick has turned over a new leaf.  Folks didn’t all believe in his change of heart; but after to-day, say, Nick could own the whole town if he was so minded.  I’d give a heap if I was standing in his shoes this same day.  He’ll be a hero, as sure as he used to be the town scapegrace!”

It was just that way up to the time the referee signaled that the last half of the game had been played to a finish.  Nick seemed capable of doing almost as he pleased.  Whenever he got possession of the puck it was, as one enthusiastic Scranton boy whooped, a “regular procession.”  The Belleville lads just couldn’t touch him.  His actions bewildered them, so that they were continually becoming mixed up with their own side when they thought to corner Nick and the puck.

The score?

Well, it seemed too bad that after such a brilliant beginning Belleville should fall so low, and see the terrible figures, thirteen to seven, marked up against them.

In the annals of sport, as chronicled at Scranton High, that contest would always be known as the “Battle of Winchester,” just because, as in the Civil War, when the Union army was in retreat and demoralized, the coming of a single man, General Phil Sheridan, caused them to turn about, and presently win a conclusive and overwhelming victory.  And Nick Lang had been the Phil Sheridan for Scranton on that glorious day!

Nick tried to make a “grand sneak” as soon as the game finished, but the crowd would have none of that, hemming him in so that he could not run; and then for the first time in all his life the one-time bully of Scranton tasted of the joys of popularity.

Fellows wrung his hand who had always treated him with disdain.  He was slapped on the back and praised to the skies.  Why, even Sue Barnes, Ivy Middleton, Peggy Noland, and a lot of other school-girls seemed proud to shake hands with Nick, who was as red in the face as a turkey gobbler, and rendered quite breathless trying to answer the myriad of sincere congratulations that were showered on him.

But by the happy light in his eyes Hugh knew the die was cast, once and for all.  Having tasted of the sweets of popularity and honest praise, nothing on earth could now tempt Nick to fall back again to his former ignoble ways.  His foot was firmly planted on the second round of the ladder, and he had his aspiring eye on the better things nearer the top.