THE HOCKEY GAME
The Freshman class proved to have a very fine hockey team. The girls,
including Phyllis, Gale, Ricky and Gloria, were all very agile, swift
and determined. The spirit of coöperation which existed between the
members of the team was largely responsible for their victories. They
made goal after goal in perfectly timed coöperation. They triumphed over
the Sophomore team with such a crushing score that the whole Freshman
class was delighted and held a party in their honor.
Then came the election of class president. Phyllis, to her astonishment
and delight, was elected the Freshman president. Valerie was elected
secretary. Altogether, the Adventure Girls were delighted to think two
of their number held offices in the class.
The room in Sunshine Alley became the headquarters for all sorts of
meetings to discuss class activities. There was scarcely any time at all
when someone wasn’t there.
Still, with the activities of her office, Phyllis found time to practice
with the Freshman hockey team. They practiced often and diligently. The
team was next scheduled to play the Junior class and that, they were
sure, would be more difficult than the Sophomores. For one thing, Marcia
Marlette was on the Junior team. That fact made Gale sure of a difficult
encounter.
As the days went by the Adventure Girls could discover nothing new about
the strange events that had occurred to the Dean. Gradually their
interest began to fade. Occasionally Gale saw the Dean and Doctor
Norcot, but even she learned nothing new.
Gale left the Chemistry class on this afternoon without a moment’s
wasted time and went to the gymnasium and the lockers. There the girls
were gathering for the pending hockey game between the two classes. Some
of the girls were already in their playing suits and Gale hastened into
hers. Phyllis helped her into the pads which, as goalie, Gale needed.
Phyllis, in her position of forward, preferred to wear as little
protection as possible. She considered herself agile enough to dodge the
flying sticks when in a tussle for the ball and was of the opinion that
the shin-guards only deterred her when she was in a hurry.
There was a big turnout for the game. Janet and Carol had elected to try
out for the cheer leaders’ club and they were on duty this afternoon to
see that their class should get a large measure of support from the
fans.
Gale and the opposing Junior took their positions at the goals. The
teams were in line and the game began. The fans cheered lustily on the
slightest provocation but there was no goal scored.
Marcia Marlette was playing a brilliant game, even the Freshmen had to
admit that. She was here and there and everywhere. She had the ball
headed toward the goal every chance she got. Once Gale parried a
desperate shot of Marcia’s that would have meant the first score had it
been a little harder and a little straighter.
But the Junior team did not have the same spirit of coöperation that
characterized the younger girls. Marcia was playing for personal glory.
The girls could all see that. More than once, if Marcia had passed the
ball to a team mate who was in the clear, a score might have been made,
but she preferred to play it herself and each time irrevocably lost.
Such was not the case with Phyllis and her team mates, however. They did
not hesitate to pass to one another. They were not playing for their own
brilliant performances, rather for the game. They wanted their team to
win and they did everything in their power to make it so. So
unconquerable was their enthusiasm that the score mounted in favor of
the Freshmen. Goal after goal was made.
“Lucky for us, Marcia isn’t particularly brilliant,” Janet told Carol on
the sidelines. “If she didn’t want to be the whole show herself, the
Juniors would easily win over us.”
“Treason in the Freshman class!” Carol frowned upon her. “Don’t you
think we have a good team?”
“Of course,” Janet said. “But look at Marcia. She is casting daggers
from her greenish eyes at Phyl. One would think there was no one else on
the field but Marcia and Phyllis. They have been watching and
checkmating each other all afternoon.”
“She would dearly love to wrap her stick around Phyllis’ neck—or
Gale’s,” giggled Carol. “There they go!”
Marcia and a class mate were dribbling the ball ever closer to the
Freshman goal. Gale was on guard. Phyllis and Ricky swept in to rescue
the ball and save the game.
There was a sudden mix-up of flying sticks, arms and legs. Two of the
players sprawled into the goalie. Gale had a fleeting vision of Marcia
Marlette striking out viciously with her stick before she went down
under the impact of another Junior.
Gale scrambled to her feet. The others did likewise—that is all but
Phyllis. She lay perfectly still, her one leg twisted under her. Janet
and Carol dashed out from the sidelines. A sudden hush had fallen over
the spectators.
“Phyl!” Gale cried and dropped beside her friend.
“What’s the matter?” Doctor Norcot and Professor Lukens had appeared
from among the spectators.
After a brief examination by the doctor, Professor Lukens picked Phyllis
up in his arms and started toward the infirmary with her.
Gale tore off the padding of her position and ran after them.
“But the game——” mildly protested a Junior.
“Get another goalie,” directed Gale and was gone.
Gale was forced to wait in the doctor’s office. She wriggled impatiently
in the uncomfortable leather chair. Getting to her feet she walked
restlessly to the window and around the room. There were a lot of
medical books here which at another time would have interested her
immensely. However, now she could think of nothing but Phyllis, of the
whiteness of her friend’s face and the stillness with which she had lain
on the field.
The door knob turned and the doctor came into the room. She was in the
white clothes of her profession and wore the professional smile.
“Phyl——” Gale said.
“She’ll be all right,” the doctor assured her, “but her leg is
fractured.”
“B-Broken?” Gale managed to whisper.
Doctor Norcot nodded. “She must have been hit with a hockey stick—a
vicious hit.”
“But she will be all right?” Gale insisted.
“After a few weeks she will be as good as new,” the doctor promised.
“Would you like to see her?”
“Oh, yes!”
Gale found Phyllis awake and grumbling. The sight of her friend made
Gale’s heart twinge with pity. Phyllis was trying so hard to be brave.
“I’ve climbed ivy trellises, even jumped out of an airplane with a
parachute—and I break my leg playing in a hockey game,” Phyllis said
disgustedly. “A fine class president you picked!”
“We picked a good one!” Gale said quickly. “We——”
“In here?” a voice said and the door was opened.
“Hi,” Janet said.
“We came as quickly as we could when we thought we could see you,” added
Carol.
“Who won the game?” Phyllis demanded.
“We did,” Ricky said, “because you played so well before——”
“Before Marcia Marlette cracked you with her hockey stick,” Janet added
savagely.
“She didn’t do it,” Phyllis said wearily. “No one can say who did it.
Sticks were flying in all directions.”
Janet said nothing more but she and Gale exchanged significant glances.
The girls did not stay long after that. It was evident that Phyllis was
tired and they thoughtfully took their leave early, but Phyllis detained
Gale long after the others. Gale held her friend’s hand until Phyllis
was asleep then she softly left the room.
Slowly, deep in thought, Gale stepped from the infirmary building to the
campus. A chill night wind had sprung up. She turned toward the
gymnasium. She was still in her hockey suit. She would have to go to the
lockers and change before going to the sorority house.
Dinner had been an hour ago but she scarcely missed the comfort of her
meal. She had been so worried about Phyllis she did not realize how time
had flown past. Finding the janitor was an easy task. He unlocked the
door to the gymnasium for her and she wasted no time in going to the
lockers for her things. Stepping again onto the campus, now warm in her
woollen jacket, Gale caught sight of the Dean crossing the campus to her
home. Dean Travis beckoned to Gale and waited until the Freshman joined
her.
“How is your friend?” she asked immediately.
Gale told her.
“You missed your dinner, didn’t you?” the Dean continued. “Come home
with me. We will dine together.”
“Oh, but I——” Gale began confusedly.
“Forget I am the Dean for this one night,” Dean Travis invited
humorously. She smiled and Gale could not resist. “I’ve wanted to talk
with you often, Gale. You aren’t merely one of the Freshmen to me, you
know. You are a friend.”
Gale found the living room of the Dean’s home cozy and warm. A wood fire
burned in the fireplace. She sat on the divan before it and let the
warmth of the flames ease away some of the nervousness she still felt
from her worry over Phyllis. The dinner was the best she had had at
Briarhurst, at least she enjoyed it the most. She talked to the Dean as
she might have to one of the girls. There was no stiffness or formality
between them. She found herself telling the Dean about Phyllis and about
the letter she, Gale, must write when she returned to the sorority
house. It was a letter to Phyllis’ aunt, the cold, austere woman who was
paying Phyllis’ tuition at Briarhurst. Gale did not like Miss Fields.
She resented the way the woman so completely dominated Phyllis’ life and
the blind obedience she exacted from the girl.
It was late when Gale got back to the sorority house. Adele Stevens met
her at the door.
“How is Phyllis?”
Gale told her all the details she could and together they walked up to
Gale’s room. There the sorority president stopped to chat a while. When
she left Gale found it lonesome. It would be hard to get used to living
alone for a few weeks. Phyllis was always so gay, so friendly and
understanding, Gale would certainly miss her.
She sat down at her desk to write to Miss Fields. It was the most
difficult task she had ever had to do. She didn’t like Phyllis’ aunt and
her letter was not the friendly, sympathetic epistle it might have been
had she been writing to one of the other girls’ mothers. When she
finished she read the note through. It was decidedly stiff and
unfriendly. She tore it up and began another. She finally enclosed her
fifth attempt in an envelope and stamped it. She was sure Phyllis would
receive scant sympathy from Miss Fields. The woman, in all the years
since Phyllis was small, had given the girl no obvious affection, no
love. Phyllis always had been afraid of her, always had to obey her
blindly and implicitly. Gale remembered how difficult it had been for
Phyllis to come to Briarhurst with the rest of the Adventure Girls. And
now this had to happen! How would Miss Fields accept the news? That
worried Gale quite as much as it did Phyllis.
Standing at the window, watching shadows moving slowly on the campus as
clouds drifted past the moon, Gale thought of what Janet had said that
afternoon. Had Marcia deliberately hit Phyllis with her hockey stick?
Gale’s more charitable nature rebelled at the thought. Marcia might be
selfish, stubborn, not at all likeable, but surely she wouldn’t do
anything like that!
The Freshmen had won the game but at what a cost. Her zeal for the game
would cost Phyllis days of suffering and weeks of inactivity that would
be even harder to bear. Mentally Gale made a promise to help Phyllis all
she could.