THE CHAMPIONSHIP.
Although Marjorie had been disappointed in Queenie’s failure to
participate in the troop’s visit to the hospital, she was not deeply
concerned. Of all the girls in the patrol she had shown the least
interest in the event; from the beginning she had tried to discourage
it. Her doll had been the most carelessly dressed in the exhibition,
and she had left almost immediately after the affair itself was over.
But Marjorie felt so sure of Queenie that this indifference scarcely
troubled her; it was enough to find the others so enthusiastic.
Moreover she had not the slightest doubt that Sam MacDonald had passed
out of Queenie’s life, so she dismissed the matter from her mind,
believing that her absence had been due to a whim. After all she could
not be expected to go in for everything.
She wished, however, that she might hear from her before Saturday—the
night of the big basket-ball game that was to decide the League
championship. She wanted every one of her players to be on hand, in
trim for her position, and she was counting on Queenie to jump center.
It would be a wonderful honor for her troop if the team would win;
it would give them a standing among the other troops in the city that
no other one act could accomplish so quickly; it would go a long way
in establishing them for next year. But Marjorie was well aware that
victory was very doubtful; like themselves, Troop One Sixty-one had
beaten every team that they had met thus far in the League, but in
almost every instance by a greater advantage. She had watched some
of their games, and had admired the dexterity of their players. Her
one hope lay in Jack’s ability as a coach; he, too, had observed them
keenly, and had trained his own team to cope with their tactics.
Marjorie herself would have been glad to play on the team if she had
felt that she was needed. But during the last few weeks, she had
experienced an increasing sense of fatigue, a decided reduction in
energy. Always, she remembered, she had felt a certain weariness of
both mind and body as the spring holiday approached, but this year she
noticed it to a marked degree. John had perceived it, and had urged
her not to play on the team if any one else were available; Lily had
remarked about it, even to the extent of begging her to take a week-end
off and go home. But she had steadfastly refused to let down; she was
confident that she could stick it out to the end.
The evening of the game arrived, and she drove into the city with
Lily. Both girls were keyed to the highest pitch of excitement and
anticipation.
“I wish you wouldn’t even take your basketball suit,” Lily remarked, as
they stepped into the car. “Because if your team is losing, you may be
tempted to play.”
“I shall leave it entirely up to Jack,” her companion replied. “If he
advises me to play, I’ll do it.”
“Well, I’ll take good care to see him and tell him how you’ve been
feeling lately! I’ll fix you!”
“Don’t be mean, Lil!”
“It’s for your own good.”
“We must think of the good of the team tonight—after this match is
over, I’ll have all the rest of my life to consider my own good.”
“Much chance!” muttered Lily sarcastically.
“Well, I don’t honestly think you need worry,” Marjorie assured her.
“It’s Queenie who has been practicing with the team, Queenie who has
been coached on the signals—she’s the one Jack is depending on.”
“I’m mighty glad of it!” replied the other, letting out her throttle,
and giving her attention to the road, as if the matter were concluded.
When the girls reached the hall where the game was to be played,
they found it brilliantly lighted in honor of the occasion. From the
wide open windows a confusion of laughter and talking floated out;
scouts and other visitors could be seen in all the front rooms of the
building. It was evident that this was to be a big event for the Girl
Scouts of Philadelphia.
Marjorie and Lily found Dick and John waiting for them at the entrance,
and made their way through the crowd to the gymnasium. There they saw
not only bright lights, but festive decorations as well. The balcony
had been divided into two sections; one of which was draped with wide
streamers of yellow cheesecloth, with a huge artificial sunflower in
the center, the other in blue, with a big cornflower ornamenting it. It
was evident that the visitors were expected to express their preference
for either team by sitting in the seats marked by their respective
flowers.
“Why, we have a splendid showing!” cried Marjorie gaily, as she looked
up and saw half of their section already filled with spectators. “Look,
Lil—we have more rooters than the other troop! Do you really suppose
we’re so popular?”
“Looks that way!” returned Lily, as much pleased as Marjorie.
“But why, I wonder—when hardly anybody knows us?”
“I think we must have won a lot of friends that first night when
you made the girls stick to their principle. Everybody admires good
sportsmanship.”
“Well, it’s lovely, anyhow, whatever the reason is. But it means that
you people better hurry up and get some seats, or there won’t be any
left. Save a place for me, and I’ll be up as soon as I find Jack and
get the team lined up.”
Hardly was she outside the door when Goldie and Dot, obviously in a
panic, literally bumped into her.
“Captain!” Dot flung out breathlessly. “Queenie hasn’t shown up!”
Marjorie grasped the excited girl’s arm in sudden alarm.
“Queenie!” she repeated. Then, realizing that she must not allow the
girls to lose control of themselves at so decisive a time, she added,
“But it’s only ten minutes of eight. She’ll surely come—she always
does.”
“But she didn’t go to the hospital with us,” Goldie reminded her.
“Oh, that was different! That wasn’t basket-ball!”
“But suppose she doesn’t come?” demanded Goldie. “What shall we do?”
“Why, I’ll play, of course. The others are all here, aren’t they?”
“Yes, but that leaves us without a single sub. Suppose something
happens—five personal fouls on a player, or somebody gets knocked
out——”
“We shan’t worry about that till the time comes,” replied Marjorie
coolly. “Let’s go into the dressing room, while I get ready. Above all,
girls, don’t lose your nerve. We must win tonight!”
They found the other members of the team—Stella, Annie and Sophia
gathered together on one of the low benches in a corner of the room,
talking with the same nervous rapidity as the others had displayed.
Marjorie immediately set about her task of reassuring them; in a few
minutes she had restored their natural good spirits.
Yet for all her own words to the contrary, she was actually alarmed
herself at the event which in her heart she believed would prove a
catastrophe, not so much for the team, as for the troop. If she put
forth a tremendous effort by sacrificing herself, she could probably
play as good a game that night as Queenie, for what she lacked in
energy, she would offset by superior knowledge and experience. But the
effect upon the troop in general would be far more disastrous; if, as
she now really believed, Queenie had lost interest in the scouts, the
patrol would be without a leader, the girls would be at loose ends.
Eight o’clock struck and both teams assembled on the floor to “warm
up.” A reassuring cheer from the balcony greeted their own arrival,
and caused the girls to glance up with pride at their well-filled
section of the balcony. Marjorie caught Lily’s eye, gazing at her in
questioning disapproval, but she only nodded and smiled as if nothing
had happened. Mr. Richards slipped into the seat that John had saved
for her, and waved to her in encouragement.
The whistle blew, the captains shook hands, the players fell into their
places. A sudden silence took possession of the spectators as the
referee tossed the ball into the air.
Tense with determination, Marjorie jumped high into the air; but
perhaps because she was out of practice, or possibly because she was so
tired, she had not timed her jump with the accuracy of her opponent.
The other girl was too quick for her; she tapped the ball back to her
side-center, who, with the agility of a tigress, had slipped it into
the right position, caught it, and tossed it over to her forward.
Marjorie cast a desperate appeal to her guards, hoping that they would
intercept the pass. Perhaps they might have succeeded, if Cornflower
Troop had not done the unexpected. Instead of the forward’s passing it
to her companion under the basket, who was well covered by Stella, she
slipped it back to the side-center, got free herself again, and almost
too quickly for the spectators to follow, received it back and shot
for the goal. The ball dropped neatly through the basket, scoring two
points in Troop One Hundred Sixty-one’s favor.
Marjorie did not trust herself to look at her players during the
applause which followed, but added her own expression of appreciation
to that of the others. The trouble was entirely with her, she believed;
if she could only succeed in getting the jump, everything would be
different.
But she was no more fortunate the second time than the first, and the
ball took the same course down the floor. Its progress, however, was
halted this time by Sophia; with almost a superhuman effort she jumped
high into the air and intercepted the pass before the forward could
secure the ball. Instantly both Marjorie and Dot got free; Sophia chose
Dot as her recipient, the latter sent the ball straight into Stella’s
hands.
“Now for a goal!” thought Marjorie, her heart beating wildly. “Oh, if
it only does go in——”
But Stella’s shot missed its mark; Goldie obtained possession of the
ball, and tried also in vain; then the guards asserted themselves, and
took it away. With lightning rapidity, it passed down the floor to the
opponent’s basket.
Marjorie felt her knees actually shaking; there seemed to be no doubt
that the other team was superior, that they were going to beat them
by a big score. It was maddening to have to stand still and watch
her guards do all the work, but for several minutes the ball neither
came over the line nor went into the basket. Sophia and Stella were
certainly fighting courageously.
At last, however, the ball whizzed back to Dot, and passed on to the
other end of the floor, once again giving Goldie and Annie a chance to
shoot. But they found it no easy task. Without overguarding a sixteenth
of an inch, their opponents seemed able to prevent their making a clear
shot; finally Annie made use of her height, and aimed for a one-point
shot. The ball fell through the basket; the wild cheering that followed
seemed to tell them that now they were started, and nothing should
prevent their going on to victory.
The rest of her team resumed their positions with an unconscious air of
confidence, but Marjorie herself returned to her circle with the same
apprehension in her heart. They had scored, to be sure, but the other
team was ahead; worst of all, she had not yet outwitted her opponent in
the toss-up. As long as she failed at the jump, her own team would be
at an enormous disadvantage.
She made another valiant attempt, but failed again; her own team,
remembering their coach’s instructions, seemed suddenly, one and all,
to throw themselves into a defensive game. For seven minutes they
held their opponents without a single point being scored. Then, just
before the conclusion of the first half, one of the forwards made a
one-point shot. The whistle blew, leaving the score at 3–1, in Troop
One Sixty-one’s favor.
Marjorie’s whole team hurried immediately over to Jack, who was sitting
in a corner of the gymnasium. What, they all demanded in confusion,
must they do to conquer their opponents?
Jack looked from one to the other in silence, waiting for them to calm
down before he answered.
“Every girl is playing her position splendidly,” he said slowly, “with
the exception of the jumping-center.”
“I know it!” cried Marjorie with sincere humility.
“You’re playing wild, Sis,” he continued. “You haven’t landed the jump
once—and after the ball is in play the rest of the team can’t depend
on you. Poor little Dot is being overworked!”
“I don’t mind it!” exclaimed the latter, her eyes shining with
excitement.
“But that won’t do!” objected the coach. “Every girl has got to play
her position, if you want to win.”
“What can I do, Jack?” asked Marjorie desperately.
“Why, this is what I’m going to try: You know you used to be a pretty
good shot as a forward, so I’m going to move you up, and put Annie in
the center. She’s quick and tall; I believe that she can get the ball.”
“That’s a great idea!” exclaimed his sister, in obvious relief. She
believed that her own nervousness before each toss-up was actually
rendering her helpless. If this were removed, she might be able to get
into the game with her old time speed.
The coach took Annie aside and began to give her some further
instruction regarding her new position, while Marjorie dashed up to the
balcony to see Lily and John. To her amazement she found the latter
gone.
“Where is he?” she demanded instantly.
Lily smiled at her chum’s frank distress.
“He had to go on an errand,” she replied; “but he’ll be back. You’re
doing splendidly, Marj,” she added. “Do you feel all right?”
“Yes—yes, of course,” answered the other girl, who was on too great a
tension to know how she actually felt. Then she told Lily of the change
Jack was effecting for the second half.
“I know that you’re going to win!” Lily assured her gaily.
“Lil—has Mr. Richards gone, too?” inquired Marjorie, suddenly growing
suspicious lest something had happened.
“Yes, I believe he had some sort of work to do.”
“Seems funny,” muttered Marjorie. “I can’t understand John’s leaving,
since he never mentioned any engagement to me, or errand of any sort.
Well, I guess I better go practice shooting baskets till the whistle
blows.”
She went back to the floor, feeling something of her old confidence
returning. She was an experienced forward, having played the position
almost as often as that of center; moreover, she was sure that her aim
was good. The practicing, too, only served to confirm this assurance,
for time after time the ball fell through the basket. When the second
half was about to begin, she was all eagerness to try her skill.
The change which Jack had suggested proved his wisdom immediately;
at the very first toss-up, Annie tapped the ball right into her
side-center’s hands. Loyal little scout that she was, Dot was only
too anxious to give Marjorie a chance to make good, and selected her,
rather than Goldie, as the recipient of her pass. Marjorie jumped
higher than she had jumped in the center to catch it, and with perfect
sureness of aim, tossed it right into the basket. In less than a
minute’s time, Sunflower team had tied the score.
Marjorie’s joy knew no bounds; during the applause that followed, her
eyes sought John’s, but he was still absent; in Lily’s however, she
read encouragement and approval.
It was Cornflower Troop’s turn to play the defensive game, and with a
mighty effort they threw themselves into the task. But the advantage
remained with Marjorie’s players, for Annie Marshall continued to land
the jump.
Both teams were too strong on the defensive to allow their opponents
to run up high scores; nevertheless, slowly, but surely, Sunflower
steadily gained. Not only did Annie prove a better center than
Marjorie, but Marjorie proved a better forward than Annie. It was
almost a foregone conclusion that whenever she secured the ball she
would make a goal. At last the time was up; the whistle blew, and the
game was over. Troop Two Hundred had conquered their opponents by a
score of 16–7; the League championship was theirs.
Hardly waiting to congratulate her girls, Marjorie dashed off to find
John and Lily.
“It was marvellous!” cried her chum delightedly. “You make a wonderful
forward——”
“Lil, where’s John?” interrupted Marjorie, in perplexity.
“He had to go, dear,” replied Lily. “But Dick will take us home.”
“Thanks, but I guess Jack’s willing——”
“Jack had to hurry off, too; he just waved to me from the door.”
“Jack!” repeated Marjorie. “Why in the world? And Mr. Richards?”
“I told you before that he had to go.”
Marjorie seized Lily’s shoulder.
“Something’s wrong, Lil! I know it! Tell me quick! Is it Mother—or
Dad?”
“No, Marj—it’s—Queenie. But you mustn’t worry. The boys are going to
do whatever can be done.”
“What’s the matter with her?” demanded Marjorie, her face pale with
fatigue and alarm.
“We’re afraid she has eloped—or has run away to meet that man and
elope. But luckily John guessed something of the sort, and is going to
follow on her trail. I have every hope he’ll catch her.”
Marjorie dropped wearily into the seat behind her, too disheartened,
too tired for words. The League championship was forgotten; nothing
mattered now if Queenie was gone!