Most of the Screech Owls were gathered in the lobby when Travis and Nish returned from their mission to return the stolen sunglasses. Liz raced toward them with the news.

“The Towers lost!”

“What?” Nish couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“You’re kidding,” Travis said.

“No, I’m not. They ran into a really hot goaltender and lost 3–2. It came down to total goals–and we’re in!”

“Fan–tas–tic!!” shouted Nish.

The rest of the team–what was left of it, anyway–came running over to tell Nish and Travis, even though they obviously already knew. Travis could feel the excitement in his teammates, Gordie, Jennie, Willie, Jesse, all of them shouting his and Nish’s name. Then he caught sight of Andy Higgins along the far wall, just staring. Travis couldn’t tell what Andy’s stare meant. Resentment over the excitement everyone else was showing toward Travis and Nish? Jealousy? Or just that he didn’t feel a full part of the Screech Owls yet?

Travis saw Muck and the assistants coming in through the hotel’s revolving doors and went over. Muck showed no emotion.

“Well,” he said. “I guess we got in the back door.”

Travis was startled at the contrast between his teammates and his coaches. The team had all been celebrating; the coaches, particularly Muck, looked as if they’d just come from a funeral.

Travis didn’t have to have it spelled out for him. Muck had been embarrassed and humiliated by the incident at the Hockey Hall of Fame. It didn’t matter that Muck himself had nothing to do with what had happened–in the coach’s eyes he had everything to do with it. A team wasn’t made up of individuals, just as he’d said when they played the Muskoka Wildlife; if the Screech Owls were a real team, then what some of them did affected them all. And whatever the team did, both on and off the ice, reflected on the coach.

Travis felt just as disappointed himself. He didn’t feel excited like his teammates. He felt empty.

The final was scheduled for the next day at 11:00 a.m. Muck put them through an afternoon practice, and they all worked hard. Nish skated and even played a little scrimmage, but still wasn’t fully recovered. The rest were sharp and eager, which seemed to please Muck. He didn’t cancel the planned visit to the Ontario Science Centre as he had the Leafs game.

It was a difficult afternoon for Travis. He did laugh once, when the Science Centre guide selected Nish to stand on a rubber mat and put his hand on a silver globe while they shot a charge of static electricity through him. Nish’s hair looked like it was trying to run away from him! But there was a big difference between laughing at a little moment and feeling good about their whole time in Toronto.

They went to the Science Centre cafeteria for a snack at the end, and Muck asked Travis to come and sit with him. Muck had two Cokes, one for each of them.

Travis felt his stomach churning. He didn’t know what Muck wanted. He didn’t know what to say. Maybe he’d get a chance to talk about the two plotters.

Muck took a long drink of his Coke, swallowed, and stared hard at Travis.

“Did you know anything about the stealing?” he asked.

Travis shook his head. He knew Muck was talking about the Hockey Hall of Fame, and he had known nothing about it. But he did know about the other stealing, only it had involved others, not the three who were sent home, and Travis couldn’t tell on Andy and Nish. He couldn’t squeal. Certainly not on his best friend.

Technically, he was right to shake his head. But he was wrong, too. Either way, he was behaving like a wimp. A wimp if he squealed. A wimp by letting Muck think something was true when it wasn’t exactly true.

“A good captain has to lead by example, Travis,” Muck said. “I wanted you as captain for precisely that reason.”

Travis swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”

Surprisingly, Muck gave a slight grin. “Think we can win with half a bench?”

Travis was relieved at the change of topic. “I hope so,” he said.

Muck took another swallow, nodding.

“We don’t deserve to,” he said.

 

Muck gave them a free evening. He set the rules when they got back to the hotel lobby: “Stay in groups of a minimum of three. Stay off the streets, except for those who plan to go shopping at the Eaton Centre. Be in your rooms, lights out, by nine-thirty. I’ll be checking.”

Some of the Owls were going shopping with their parents. Some wanted to stay around the pool.

Travis was in the elevator when he decided to act. He and Nish were headed up to their rooms to change into their swimsuits, not knowing what else to do. Travis figured that, as captain and assistant captain, it was clear what their duty was.

All he could think about was Muck’s enormous disappointment in the team and how a captain was expected to lead by example. Perhaps if he could prevent one of the thefts–a much bigger one than the lighters or sunglasses or T-shirts–he could be a good example, at least in his own eyes. That might be a start, anyway.

The elevator was just coming to a halt on their floor.

“Let’s go back to the Hall of Fame,” he said.

“Been there, done that,” said Nish, unimpressed.

Travis made the decision he’d been avoiding. He had to tell Nish.

“We have to go back.”

“What d’ya mean?”

“There’s two guys planning to steal the Stanley Cup tonight.”

Nish turned, staring. If his hair could have shot straight up without static electricity, it would have.

 

Good old Nish. Once Travis had explained, he was all for it, almost like a player who’s been sitting on the bench all along and finally gets a chance to play. He understood why Travis had been unable to tell Muck. He was outraged that the police, as well as the Hall of Fame, had dismissed Travis as a childish prankster when he’d called. He saw this as a marvellous opportunity for them, supposedly the team leaders, to right a few wrongs. He had put back the sunglasses, and now he’d make sure the Stanley Cup never got lifted by anyone who wasn’t on a winning team.

They prepared carefully. Nish had his little backpack, and they had apples and chocolate bars and drinking boxes to put in it.

“I hate those stupid boxes,” said Nish.

“So do I, but pop cans make noise.”

“Right.”

“Do you have any shin-pad tape?” Travis asked.

“A couple rolls.”

“Get them. You never know, they might come in handy.”

“How’ll we get there?” Nish asked.

“I’ve got subway tokens. It’ll take us twenty minutes, tops.”

Nish suddenly frowned: “We can’t go.”

“What do you mean?”

“Muck says we have to stick in threes.”

Nish was right. They were already risking enough trouble just in going. But they might not even get out the front door of the hotel if they were on their own. More important, even if they did manage to slip away unnoticed, they were still only two peewee hockey players against two grown crooks. They could use at least a third person–if only to serve as lookout.

“We’d better find someone,” Nish said.

“Data would be perfect.”

“Data’s probably been sent to his room until the end of the next century.”

“Derek?”

Nish shook his head. “Went to the movies.”

They were stuck. Willie, their roommate, was down in the pool. Besides, they needed Willie here if they blew curfew. They’d left a note on Willie’s pillow telling him they might be a bit late and to answer for them if Muck happened to knock on the door.

They went down to the lobby, looking and checking around. Everyone was either gone or else tied up with plans.

All except one.

“Andy,” Nish said. “He’s not with anybody.”

“Take a thief to catch a thief?” Travis asked, incredulous.

“Why not?” Nish grinned. “He already thinks like them.”

Andy was sulking around the lobby. Since the three shop-lifters had been sent home, he’d been more or less frozen out by the rest of the team.

Travis shrugged.

Nish headed toward Andy and Travis followed, feeling he really had no choice. Andy saw them coming. He was sitting on one of the big lobby chesterfields and had a plastic shopping bag on his lap. He shifted uncomfortably.

“What’re you doing?” Nish asked, plunking down beside Andy.

“Nothin’,” Andy replied. He seemed nervous.

“What’s in the bag?” Nish asked. Good old Nish. Never shy about things.

“Nothin’.”

“C’mon, let me see.”

Nish grabbed the bag out of Andy’s hands and dumped the contents out. The CN Tower lighters and the Blue Jays mug and the deck of cards came spilling out, as well as several loonies. As quick as he had dumped them out, Nish scooped everything back into the bag and threw it in Andy’s lap.

Travis’s first thought was that Andy had been stealing again from the shop. But why the loonies?

“I was trying to figure out how to get it back,” Andy said.

“What’s the money for?”

“To pay for the cigarettes, I guess. Whatever.”

Nish was grinning: “Why the change of heart?”

“It’s my fault they got caught, obviously.” He stared hard at Travis. “You don’t have to pretend everyone isn’t blaming me for what happened.”

Travis said nothing. What was there to say to Andy?

“I’ll put it back for you,” Nish said.

Andy looked at Nish, not understanding.

“I am the world’s leading expert at returning stolen merchandise,” Nish announced with pride. “Just give it to me.”

Andy handed over the bag. Without a word, Nish got up and walked straight over into the gift shop. As casual as could be, Nish began talking with the old woman at the cash register and pointing to a cap clipped to a rack high above the front window. She nodded, got a short stool and a stick with a hook on it, and began reaching for the cap.

With the woman’s back turned, Nish simply leaned over and stuffed the bag in one of the low shelves full of candy. She’d find it soon enough, but never figure it out.

She lowered the cap and handed it to an angelic-looking Nish, who tried it on, looked at his reflection in the window, and then, seeming disappointed, handed it back to the old woman. She nodded and turned to replace the cap. Nish walked out.

When he got back to where the others were waiting, he said, looking at Andy, “Travis, I think we’ve got our third man.”

Travis found himself nodding.