When the four classes assembled Thursday morning, every girl, with the exception of Eleanor, was in her seat. Her absence created considerable comment, and it was a matter of speculation as to whether she had purposely absented herself or really had been suspended.
After conducting opening exercises, Miss Thompson pronounced sentence on the culprits. They were to forfeit their recess, library and all other privileges until the end of the term. They must turn in two themes every week of not less than six hundred words on certain subjects to be assigned to them. If, during this time, any one of them should be reported for a misdemeanor, they were to be suspended without delay.
Their penalty was far from light, but they had not been suspended, and so they resolved to endure it as best they might.
Grace Harlowe felt a load lifted from her mind when Miss Thompson publicly announced that she had not received any information from either Mabel Allison or the Phi Sigma Tau.
"Thank goodness, none of us were concerned in that affair," she told the members of her basketball team at recess. "There are two girls on the sophomore and three on the freshman team whose basketball ardor will have to cool until after the mid-year exams."
"You might know that some of those silly freshmen would get into trouble," said Nora scornfully.
"'Twas many and many a year ago, In an age beyond recall, That Nora, the freshman, lowly sat At one end of the study hall."
recited Anne Pierson in dramatic tones.
There was a burst of laughter from the girls at this effusion, in which Nora herself joined.
"What a delicate way of reminding me that I once was a freshman!" she exclaimed.
"Anne has a new accomplishment," said Grace. "She can spout poetry without trying."
"Small credit is due me," said Anne, smiling. "Anyone can twist 'Annabel Lee' to suit the occasion."
"By the way, Anne," said Grace, "as you are a poet, you must compose a basketball song to-day, and I'll see that the juniors all have copies.
It's time we had one. Let me see what would be a good tune?"
"'Rally Round the Flag,'" suggested Miriam Nesbit. "That has a dandy swing to it."
Grace hummed a few bars.
"The very thing," she exclaimed. "Now, Anne, get busy at once. You'd better sing the tune to yourself all the time you're writing it, then you'll be sure to put more dash and spirit into it."
"I wish the day of the game were here," said Jessica plaintively.
"I have been practising a most encouraging howl. Hippy, David and Reddy have a new one, too. Reddy says it's 'marvelously extraordinary and appallingly great.'"
"I can imagine it to be all that and more if Hippy had anything to do with its origin," said Nora.
"Wasn't it nice of Miss Thompson to exonerate us publicly?" asked Anne.
"She is always just," replied Grace. "I can't understand how Eleanor could be so rude and disagreeable to her. She has disliked Miss Thompson from the first."
"I wonder whether she apologized to Miss Thompson last night," mused Grace.
"I feel sure that she didn't, and I am just as sure that she won't get back until she does."
"We shall manage to exist if she doesn't," said Jessica dryly. She felt a personal grudge against Eleanor for her accusation against Mabel, who had grown very dear to her and whom she mothered like a hen with one chicken.
"She'll probably appear at the game in all her glory," said Miriam Nesbit. "She can go to that, even though she is on bad terms with the school."
The recess bell cut short the conversation and the girls returned to their desks with far better ideas of the coming game than of the afternoon's lessons.
Saturday, December 12, dawned cold and clear, and the girls on both teams were in high spirits as they hustled into their respective locker-rooms and rapidly donned their gymnasium suits. The spectators had not yet begun to arrive, as it was still early, so the girls indulged in a little warming-up practice, did a few stunts and skipped about, overflowing with animal spirits.
Julia Crosby and Grace took turns sprinting around the gymnasium three times in succession, while Miriam Nesbit timed them, Grace finishing just two seconds ahead of Julia.
By a quarter of two the gallery was fairly well filled and by five minutes of two it was crowded. The juniors, with the exception of Eleanor Savell's faction, arrived in a body, gave the High School yell the moment they spied their team, and then burst forth with the basketball song, led by Ruth Deane, a tall junior, who stood up and beat time with both hands. Anne had composed the song the week before. The juniors had all received copies of the words and had learned them by heart. They now sang with the utmost glee, and came out particularly strong on the chorus, which ran:
"The juniors forever, hurrah, fans, hurrah!
Our team is a winner, our captain's a star.
And we'll drive the senior foe, from the basket every time.
Shouting the war cry of the juniors."
There was a great clapping of hands from the admirers of the juniors at this effort, but the seniors promptly responded from the other end of the gallery to the tune of Dixie, with:
"The seniors are the real thing.
Hurrah! Hurrah!
Our gallant team now takes its stand, And all the baskets soon will land.
We shout, we sing, the praises of the seniors."
Hardly had the last notes died away, when the referee blew the whistle and the teams hustled to their positions. Grace and Julia Crosby faced each other, beamed amiably and shook hands, then stood vigilant, eyes on the ball that the referee balanced in her hands. Up it went, the whistle sounded and the two captains sprang straight for it. Grace captured it, however, and sent it flying toward Miriam, who was so carefully guarded that she dared not attempt to make the basket, and after a feint managed to throw it to Nora, who tried for the basket at long range and missed.
There was a general scramble for the ball, and for five minutes neither team scored; then Marian Barber dropped a neat field goal, and soon after Grace scored on a foul. The junior fans howled joyfully at the good work of their team. The seniors did not intend to allow them to score again in a hurry. They played such a close guarding game that, try as they might, the juniors made no headway. Then Julia Crosby scored on a field goal, making the score 3 to 2. This spurred the junior team on to greater effort, and Miriam made a brilliant throw to basket that brought forth an ovation from the gallery. This ended the first half, with the score 5 to 2 in favor of the juniors.
"They'll have to work to catch up with us now," said Nora O'Malley triumphantly to the members of the team, who sat resting in the little side room off the gymnasium.
"We have the lead, but we can't afford to boast yet," replied Grace.
"The seniors played a fine game last half, and they'll strain every nerve to pile up their score next half."
"We shall win," said Miriam Nesbit confidently. "I feel it in my bones."
"Let's hope that your bones are true prophets," laughed Marian Barber.
"O girls!" exclaimed Eva Allen from the open door, in which she had been standing looking up at the gallery. "Eleanor is here. She and her satellites are sitting away up on the back seat of the gallery."
"Where?" asked Nora, going to the door. "Oh, yes, I see her. She looks as haughty as ever. It's a wonder she'd condescend to come and watch her mortal enemies play."
"I suppose she hopes we'll lose," said Marian Barber. "That would fill her with joy."
"Then we'll see that she goes away in a gloomy frame of mind," said Nora, "for we're going to win, and don't you forget to remember it."
Just then the whistle blew, and there was a scramble for places. This time Julia Crosby won the toss-up, and followed it up with a field goal.
Then the seniors scored twice on fouls, tying the score. The juniors set their teeth and waded in with all their might and main, setting a whirlwind pace that caused their fans to shout with wild enthusiasm and fairly dazed their opponents. Grace alone netted four foul goals, and the sensational playing of Nora and Miriam was a matter of wonder to the spectators, who conceded it to be the fastest, most brilliant half ever played by an Oakdale team. The game ended with the score 15 to 6 in favor of the juniors, whose loyal supporters swooped down upon them the moment the whistle blew and pranced about, whooping like savages.
"That was the greatest game I ever saw played under this roof," cried David, wringing Grace's hand, while Hippy hopped about, uttering little yelps of joy. Reddy circled about the victors almost too delighted for words. He was filled with profound admiration for them.
"The boys' crack team couldn't have played a better game," he said solemnly, and the girls knew that he could pay them no higher compliment, for this team was considered invincible by the High School boys.
"Perhaps we'll challenge you some day, Reddy," said Grace mischievously.