Excerpt:
"Look out! There he comes!"
Leaning far forward, riding a little black object along the ice in the crook of his stick, the blades of his skates throwing a fine spray of ice as he swerved to right and left, Carl Hemmer, Taber High's great hockey star, was in the midst of one of his famed solo dashes. An amazing individual performer, Carl had twice split Howard Prep's defense wide open, charging recklessly in on her goalie to smack the puck into the net. There was nothing he relished more than disconcerting the enemy and the entire Howard sextet was certainly frantically bewildered at his maneuvers. No team had, thus far, been able to keep Carl bottled up. Irrepressible in nature, he defied opposing sixes to stop him--combining daring with superb stick handling and dazzling skating. The tougher the going, the more it stimulated him, Carl possessing the ability to rise to all situations.
"We'll get him this time!" said Bentley, Howard's right defense, grimly.
He stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Morton, Prep's left defense, both of whom were smarting under previous assaults.
"Get him if you have to dump him!" answered Morton. "That boy's been going through us like tissue paper!"
Disdaining an attempt to go around the human bulwark of the two forms huddled to impede his progress, Carl--going at top speed--crouched for the impact. Spectators were up on their feet, thrilled at the spectacle Carl was presenting. He was actually a one-man team. Taber hadn't lost a game since his advent in school and ice hockey, through his exploits, had become the town's most popular sport.
"Hit 'em high! Hit 'em low!" sung the Taber rooters, as though they were cheering a football team.
It was the third period of a game in which Taber led, three to one. No necessity for Carl's tempestuous drive down the ice except that his dynamic nature sent him always on the attack whenever he could get his stick on the puck.
