'You!' said a voice suddenly. 'Two minutes in the penalty box.'
I looked up. He was talking to me. 'What did I do?' I asked.
'Don't argue.' He called to the officials' desk: 'Number
seven, two minutes in the penalty box, for fighting.'
Angrily I climbed into the penalty box.
'Why are you sitting here when all your friends are
playing?'
The voice was Jenny's. I didn't answer. 'Come on,
Harvard, get that puck!' I shouted.
'What did you do wrong?' Jenny asked.
T tried too hard.' Out there on the ice Harvard were
playing with only five men.
'Is that something to be ashamed of?'
'Jenny, please. I'm thinking.'
'What about?'
'About those two Dartmouth men. When I get back onto
the ice, I'll break them into little pieces.'
'Do you always fight when you play hockey?'
'I'll fight you, Jenny, if you don't keep quiet.'
'I'm leaving. Goodbye.'
I looked round, but she had gone. Just then the bell rang.
My two-minute penalty had finished. I jumped onto the ice
again.
'Good old Barrett!' shouted the crowd. Jenny will hear
them shouting for me, I thought. But where was she? Had
she left?
As I went for the puck, I looked up into the crowd.