"GENERAL" CAIRNS TO THE RESCUE.
The series of try-outs, plus the directorship of Professor Leonard,
caused basket ball interest to soar to exceptional heights. The
sophomore try-outs brought even a larger number of students to the scene
than did the freshman test. About thirty-five sophs essayed to make the
team. None of the aspirants could be classed as poor players, and it
took the approving director a trifle longer than at the previous try-out
to pick the team.
Muriel was among the first two fives to be called to the floor. Always
to be depended upon in bygone high school days, she had not fallen off
as a player. During the fifteen minutes of brisk play, she was
conspicuous by reason of her clever work with the ball. Watching her
eagerly, Marjorie could only hope to do as well when her turn came to
play.
At Sanford High School she had often been rated by enthusiastic fans as
the star player of the school. She had formerly loved the game and
played it with all her might. Now the old delightful fascination for it
thrilled her anew. She forgot everything save the fact that she was once
more to tussle for the ball. Robin Page had been called to the opposing
five. From the moment Professor Leonard put the ball in play at center
she and Marjorie amply demonstrated their right to be classed as stars.
Applause was not slow in coming from the interested spectators. The
sophs raised their voices in cries of "Robin Page! Marjorie Dean!--Who
are they? They're all right! Some players! Rah, rah, rah!" and similar
calls of noisy appreciation. Even Professor Leonard smiled at the racket
that ensued when Marjorie made a clever throw to basket after spiritedly
dodging her opponents.
When finally the try-out ended and the official soph team was named, it
consisted of Robin, Muriel, Marjorie, Grace Dearborn and Marie Peyton.
To Marjorie fell the honor of center and a more delighted, astonished
girl than she would have been hard to find.
"You deserve center," Robin delightedly wrung her hand. "You are a better
player than I and I don't mind a bit. Oh, Marjorie! Think what fun we
shall have whipping all the other teams. We have a wonderful five!"
This was the consensus of opinion. Knowing fans were already predicting
easy victories for the sophomore team that season. The moment the
winning five had been announced Lola Elster disappeared. Her
mortification at having failed to make the team would not permit her to
remain and meet the Sans. She knew Leslie Cairns would be disappointed,
and, consequently, in a bad humor. Her own state of chagrin was such
that a word from Leslie would have brought on a quarrel. Lola prudently
decided to vanish until the keen edge of Leslie's displeasure should
have worn itself off.
The fast playing they had witnessed that afternoon went far to dampen
the Sans' ardor to try for the junior team. That evening they held a
consultation in Joan's room on the subject. In the end, however, they
could not resist the desire to make themselves prominent. They agreed to
play their best, and, if chosen, to hire a coach and practice
assiduously. Leslie was present at the discussion and brimming with
derision. "You had better keep off the floor," was her rough advice.
"You'll make a worse showing than Lola did and she was hopeless."
Spurred by Leslie's jibes the Sans resolved to put forth every effort at
their try-out to make a decent showing. Other than themselves there were
not more than half a dozen aspirants. Thus their chances were good.
Having closely watched the director's methods at two try-outs they knew
what would be expected of them. They had also learned a number of things
about basket ball that they had not known before. Whether they could
apply this knowledge to their own playing on such short notice was a
question.
When the fateful junior try-out was over, Professor Leonard was of the
private opinion that he had made a mistake in attempting to carry basket
ball beyond the sophomore year. Nevertheless he selected a team from
junior material, such as it was, and proceeded to tersely address them.
Joan Myers, Natalie Weyman and Harriet Stephens represented the Sans.
The other two players chosen were a Miss Hale and a small sprightly
junior, Nina Merrill.
"You young women are all sadly out of practice. You can play a fair game
if you go to work and spend some time on the floor. You are away behind
the freshmen and sophomores. You would be white-washed by either team if
you met them now. Your playing is too slow. Learn to move fast. That is
essential in basket ball. On a man's team, the moment a player begins to
show a slowing down he is dropped. Quick work; that is the beauty of
this game. Come here regularly for practice and I will help you."
The frank opinion of the director, delivered in impersonal kindness,
the Sans found hard to swallow. Self-willed and self-centered, they bore
honest criticism very badly. Neither were they appreciative of his offer
to aid them in their practice.
"I think it is fine in Professor Leonard to offer to help us," ventured
Nina Merrill to Joan Myers as the director walked away. The team had
been standing in a group during the short address.
"Really, I hadn't thought about it." Joan's tones were chilling. Nina
was a nobody in her estimation and must be treated as such.
"You must be most unappreciative." Stung by the snub she had received,
Nina spoke straight from her heart. Then she turned and walked away.
"Why, the idea!" An angry flush overspread Joan's face. To be treated to
a dose of her own medicine did not set well.
Just then Leslie Cairns joined them and Joan forgot her outraged
feelings.
"Come along," ordered Leslie. "Get your togs changed in a hurry. I am
going to blow you three girls to eats at the Ivy. Beat it out of the
dressing room without saying where you're going. I want to talk to you
three and I am not strong for entertaining the gang. You did better than
I thought you would. What was Leonard haranguing you about?"
"He raked us down for being out of practice. Said he would coach us if
we'd come regularly to the gym." Natalie made a contemptuous gesture.
"Tell him to fly away," shrugged Leslie. "You don't need his coaching. I
have a better plan. Let's be moving."
The quartette walked away without a word of farewell to Ruth Hale, who
had been standing near them. She was also beneath their notice.
"You had a lot to say about _our_ punk playing before the try-out, Les.
What do you think of Lola? She certainly didn't distinguish herself."
Natalie could not conceal her satisfaction at Lola's failure.
"Don't mention it." Leslie's heavy brows met. "I was sore enough at the
little dummy to shake her. She let the other five put it all over her. I
haven't seen her since she flivvered and I don't want to."
"She never could play basket ball," was Natalie's lofty assertion.
"She didn't show any signs of it yesterday," Leslie grimly agreed. "I'll
meet you girls at the garage," she directed with a brusque change of
subject. "I am going over there for my car. It's good way to lose the
gang. They won't look for us there."
"What do you think of Les?" inquired Joan with raised brows as the two
girls entered the dressing room. "Before Lola flivvered she was simply
insufferable. Today she is positively affable. She's down on Lola.
That's one reason."
"I wish she'd stay down on her," responded Natalie with fervor. "Les and
I have never been as good pals since Lola Elster entered Hamilton."
"Now listen to me, Nat. Leslie likes you just as well as she ever did."
Joan broke forth with some impatience. "She runs around with Lola and
Bess Walbert, I know, and makes a fuss over them. She is perfectly aware
that it makes you sore. She does it to be tantalizing. Les likes to keep
something going all the time. It is a wonder to me that she hasn't been
expelled from college for some of the tricks she has put over. What you
must do is to pay no attention to her when she is aggravating. Don't
quarrel with her. She enjoys that. Simply behave as though you couldn't
see her at all. It will cure her. I'd rather see her chummy with you
than Lola or Bess, either. Bess Walbert can't tell the truth to save her
neck, and Lola is a selfish kid who thinks of no one but herself."
"That's all true, Joan," Natalie said with unusual meekness. "I will
really try to treat Les as you suggest."
It was not necessary that evening to treat Leslie as Joan had advised.
She was amiability itself. After ordering dinner, composed of the most
expensive items on the menu, she rested her elbows on the table and
announced: "I am going to hire a coach for you three girls. I have the
address of an all-around sportsman who will teach you a few plays that
no one can get by."
"But, Les, we can't do much with only three to play," objected Joan.
"You don't want those two sticks of juniors at our private practice do
you?"
"Not so you could notice them. You won't have to play a trio. The coach
will make four and----" Leslie paused. "I shall make a fifth. I need the
exercise. The coach needs the money. Besides, I propose to hire a hall."
Joan and Natalie tittered at this last. Leslie smiled in her
loose-lipped fashion.
"I met this man at the beach last summer. He was coaching a private
track team. He knows every trick in the sports category. He told me
there were lots of ways of fussing one's opponents in basket ball
besides treating them roughly. He said he had a regular line of what he
called 'soft talk' that he had used with splendid effect. He gave me his
address and said if ever I needed his services to write him. I had told
him enough about the game here so he understood me. I understand him,
too. This is my idea," she continued, leaning far forward and lowering
her voice.
For ten minutes she talked on, her listeners paying strict and
respectful attention.
"It's a great plan," admiringly approved Joan when Leslie had finished.
"It will take cleverness and nerve, though."
"I doubt if I can do it," deprecated Harriet.
"Certainly you can do it. After you work a week or two with this coach
and learn his methods you will be O. K. You will have to give three
afternoons a week to it; maybe more. I'll drive to Hamilton and hire
that hall tomorrow. I'll wire the coach before we go back to the campus
tonight. He's in New York and I can have him here by Saturday."
"It's going to cost oodles of money. Why are you so bent on doing it,
Les?" Joan asked curiously.
"I won't be kept out of things." Leslie turned almost fiercely upon her
questioner. "I loathe that nippy Robina Page and I hate Marjorie Dean
and her crowd. They can play basket ball, I'll admit. I'll show them
they are not the only stars. You girls have got to take a game away from
them. You are not to play them for a while. You are to whip the freshies
first. They are a handful, too. Later, you are to beat the sophs. With
the help of Ramsey, this coach, you can do it, and I know it."