WINNING ALL ALONG THE LINE
"I Can't allow you to take risks, Nellie Agnew," cried the physical
instructor. "What would the doctor say to me?"
"I'll tell you what Daddy Doctor would say," returned Nellie, grinning
grimly to answer the shoot of pain that went through the injured
ankle.
"And what is that, Miss?"
"He'd say: 'Grin and bear it! Play up!'" laughed Nellie, yet with a
choke in her voice. "Bring me my bag, Bobby. I want my 'first-aid'
kit."
"Nellie!" gasped Laura, amazed to see the gentle girl so firm. "We can
find somebody else to put in instead of you----"
"Yes, but you're not going to," cried Nellie. "Give me that bandage,
Bobby. There, Mrs. Case! you know how it ought to be used.
Tight--tight, now! That will hold me up. And, really, half an hour's
rest would cure the ache, anyway. Daddy Doctor admires pluck. He
admires Hester's bravery. I guess I wouldn't be his daughter if I
didn't have just a bit of pluck myself."
"Hurrah for Nell!" squealed Bobby, waving a second bandage over her
head, and the pin coming out, the strip of muslin soon became a tangle
of ribbon-like cloth.
"Can she do it, Mrs. Case?" asked the doubtful Laura.
"She _shall_ do it!" returned the instructor. "It won't hurt the
ankle--bound up like that. Now, on with her stocking--and her shoe. Does
it hurt, Nellie?"
"It's all right," declared the doctor's daughter.
"Does the shoe hurt it?"
"It's all right, I tell you," insisted Nellie, standing up.
Then the gong rang. The girls started for the door. Nellie was not the
last one to reach her position. At first the audience was amazed to
see her in place after she had hobbled off the field between two of
her mates. Then, understanding, they cheered her--the boys deafeningly.
"You're all right, Nellie Agnew!" yelled Chet from where the boys of
Central High were massed.
And how those girls of Central High played! Perhaps it was the
inspiration of Nellie's courage. Perhaps it was the inspiration of the
cheering spectators. But never before had Laura and her team-mates
played better basketball than in that second half with the Lumberport
team.
Nor did the latter team "go to pieces." Every point was fought for.
Suddenly the ball reached Nellie's hands again. Her guard was in front
of her. She dashed quickly back, as light of foot as she had been
before her injury. Her guard was after her, but Nellie dodged to the
right and then caged the ball from almost the center line!
"Good for you, Nell Agnew!" shouted the spectators.
Again the ball was at center and was tossed up.
"Shoot it to Nell, Laura!" advised some boy in the audience. "She'll
know what to do with it!"
"Quick, there, center! don't be all night!" yelled another.
But the girls of Central High kept their heads about them. They
watched their captain's signals. The Lumberport jumping center threw
the ball the wrong way. Again Nellie jumped for it, and almost fell
again; but she shot the ball true and fair to the basket.
By this time Nell was the heroine of the whole crowd. Her opposing
guard was putting up a splendid game, but she was always just a breath
too late. Laura saw that the doctor's daughter was keyed up for fine
work, and she let her have the ball once more.
Nell dashed first to the left, then to the right; she completely lost
her guard, and the guard from the other side ran in to intercept her.
This is not altogether good basketball, and it gave Nell a splendid
opening.
"Shoot it here, Nell!" cried Laura.
The ball passed through the hands of three Central High girls--a triple
play often practiced on their own court--and then--plop! into the
basket! Another goal to their score.
Time and again the Lumberport team came near to making a goal; but at
the end the tally stood with the visitors eight points ahead of their
opponents, after a fifteen-minute session that abounded in good plays
and vigorous action.
The crowd from Central High certainly were in fine fettle when they
marched down to the dock and went aboard their steamer. There was a
fine spread in the cabin and Chet Belding made a speech. That was
arranged for beforehand and most of Chet's speech dealt with "Why
Prettyman Sweet Eats So Much." Pretty was used to being joked, and
didn't mind it much as long as Chet was talking and _he_ could
continue to graze at his pleasure upon the good things on the table.
"Only, I say!" he exclaimed, when Chet's speech was concluded, "I
don't see why I am always selected to point a mowal and adorn a tale.
Weally, I don't eat so much more than anybody else--according to my
height."
"That's right, Purt!" cried Lance. "There's a lot of you--lengthwise!"
"And just think what a thin shell you've got," cackled Billy Long.
"That's why it takes so much to fill you up, old boy."
"Don't carp and criticise, Billy-boy," said his sister, Alice. "I
notice that a good deal goes onto your plate, too--and you haven't
arrived at Purt's age yet."
"Don't talk to Billy about ages," giggled Bobby. "He can't remember
anybody's age. I bet he couldn't tell how old Methuselah was."
"Give it up! Didn't know the gentleman. What team did _he_ play on?"
asked Billy, with his mouth full.
"Methuselah was 969 years old," declared Purt, seriously.
"Pshaw, Purt! was that it?" demanded Billy.
"I always thought that was his telephone number."
The moon was up in all her October glory when the young folk crowded
upon the upper deck. There was a big gramophone on the boat and they
had music, and singing, and the trip home was as enjoyable as it could
be. The day, too, was a red letter one for the basketball team of
Central High. From that time they began to win all along the line in
the inter-school series.
They won from both East and West Highs during that month, and tied
Keyport when that team came to the Hill to play them. The score of
games played that fall showed Central High third on the list at the
end of October, whereas they had been fifth. Keyport was in the lead
and East High second; for in playing with other teams these two
schools almost always won.
Chet Belding kept in touch with Hebe Pocock's condition at the
hospital and occasionally sent the injured fellow some fruit and other
delicacies. Once when he went to ask after Hebe the doctor told the
boy to go up to the accident ward and see him.
"He's been asking after you. Wants to thank you for the stuff you've
sent in. He's a pretty tough citizen, is Hebe," laughed the doctor.
"But he has some gratitude in his make-up."
Chet went up and found that Hebe and the man Billson were pretty good
friends, being in neighboring beds. In fact, Billson was now up and
about the ward and would soon be allowed to leave the hospital; but it
would be some time yet before Hebe could walk.
"It jest dishes me about gittin' that job at the young ladies'
gymnasium, heh?" said Hebe. "Did they put that Jackway out?"
"Why, no," said Chet, puzzled a bit by the young man's manner and
look. "Why should they?"
"He warn't no good," grunted Hebe. "You bet, if I'd had his job,
nobody would have got in there and cut up all that stuff without my
knowin' who did it."
"Perhaps he _does_ know who did it," said Chet, slowly.
Pocock flashed him a sudden look of interest. "He ain't said so, has
he?"
"Well--no."
"And they ain't give him the bounce?"
"My father says he doesn't think Jackway is to blame."
"Huh!" grumbled Hebe. "Maybe I'll git that job yet."
"How do you expect to do it?" demanded Chet.
"Never you mind. Henry Grimes has got some influence, I reckon, an' he
said I should have it."
"I guess they'll keep on Jackway. I wouldn't think of it, if I was
you," said Chet, seriously.
"Say! that fellow's a dub!" growled Hebe, and became silent.
Chet talked with the squatter, Billson, as they walked down the long
ward together.
"He's always goin' on about that job at the gym.," chuckled Billson,
with a hitch of his shoulder toward Hebe's bed. "He was talkin' to
Miss Grimes about it when she was in to see me the other day. That's a
fine gal--Miss Grimes."
"I'm glad you find her so," returned Chet, but with considerable
surprise.
"Nobody really knows who did that mean job in the girls' gymnasium,
eh?"
"Well--some of us suspect pretty hard," said Chet, slowly.
Billson looked at him, screwing up his eyes tight. "Mebbe I could find
out, Mr. Belding."
"How could you?" demanded Chet, quickly.
"That's telling. Perhaps I know something. I'd do a good deal to clear
Miss Grimes of all this suspicion. Oh, I've heard the doctors and
nurses talking about it."
"Say! do you think it would help clear her of suspicion if you found
out the truth?" demanded Chet, in wonder.
"Huh! why not?" returned Billson. "I guess you're one of these crazy
folk that think she did it?"
"No. But I bet she knows who _did_ do it," blurted out Chet.
"Good-day, young man!" snapped Billson. "I guess you ain't interested
in what I know," and he turned on his heel and limped away up the
ward.
But Chet went out, feeling very much puzzled, and proceeded to take
Mother Wit into his confidence. If Hester was innocent of even the
smallest part in that affair, the whole school--and people outside the
school, too--were treating Hester very unfairly.
For by this time Hester Grimes scarcely had a speaking acquaintance
with the other girls of Central High, and she was welcome only at Lily
Pendleton's home.