BASKETBALL RUMORS
After the holidays a great interchanging of visits began at Overton that
drove away, for the time being, the terrifying shadows of the all too
rapidly approaching mid-year examinations. Almost every girl had brought
back with her some treasure that she insisted her friends must see, or
some delicious goody they must taste. It was all very delightful, but
extremely demoralizing as far as study was concerned.
Santa Claus had been particularly kind to Anne, Grace and Miriam, as
Miriam's muff and scarf of Russian sable, Grace's camera, and Anne's
diamond ring (a present from the Southards) testified. Then there were
the less expensive but equally valued remembrances in the way of
embroidered sofa pillows, center pieces, and collar and cuff sets, every
stitch of which had been taken by the patient fingers of their girl
friends.
Miriam and Grace, while at home, had been given permission to raid the
preserve closet and had brought back an assortment of jellies, preserved
fruits and pickles, tucking them in every available space their trunks
and suit cases contained, regardless of the risk of breaking glass.
The evening after their arrival they had picked out a number of the
choicest goodies in their stock and accompanied by Anne had called on
Ruth Denton. They found her wrapped in the folds of a blue eiderdown
bathrobe, Arline's Christmas present to her. There were slippers to go
with it, she declared, proudly thrusting forth a felt-incased foot for
their inspection. A most mysterious thing had happened, however. The
night before she had gone on her vacation two large boxes had been
delivered to her by a messenger. One of them contained a beautiful navy
blue cloth suit, the other a dark blue velvet hat. On a plain card were
written the words, "'Take the goods the gods provide.' I Wish you a
Merry Christmas."
"Have you the card?" Grace asked, after the first exclamations regarding
the mysterious boxes had subsided.
Ruth opened the top drawer of her bureau and took out a card. Then going
to her wardrobe she displayed the blue suit on its hanger, then took the
new hat from the shelf. "Here they are," she said.
The three girls praised the suit and hat so warmly that a flush of pure
pleasure in her clothes rose to Ruth's face. Grace, however, examined
the inside of the coat and the lining of the hat with the utmost care.
Every telltale mark had been removed. Even the boxes themselves were
plain. The giver had evidently wished his or her identity to remain a
mystery. The writing on the card was not particularly distinctive. There
was only one thing of which Grace made mental note. The s's were
unfinished and the a's were not closed at the top. This in itself
amounted to little, and Grace decided that as far as she was concerned
the mystery would have to remain unsolved. So she said nothing about
this unimportant discovery, and handed Ruth's treasures back to her
without comment.
"I thought Arline might have sent it," declared Ruth, "but she swears
solemnly she knows nothing of it, and has given me her word that she had
nothing whatever to do with it."
"You'll find out some day if you have patience," declared Miriam.
"Sooner or later good deeds like that are sure to come to light."
"I wish I knew," sighed Ruth, "but if I had known, then I couldn't have
accepted them, you see."
"Evidently the person who sent them was aware of that," reflected Anne.
"Therefore, it is some one who knows all about Ruth Denton's pride."
The flush on Ruth's face deepened. "I can't help it," she said. "I don't
like to feel dependent on any one."
On the way to Wayne Hall, the mysterious presents formed the main
subject for discussion.
"We ought to have Elfreda's opinion," laughed Miriam. "She would find a
clue. Don't you remember what she said about Ruth's pride the first time
we took her to call on Ruth?"
"Yes," replied Grace absently. Then the full force of Miriam's words
dawning on her she looked at her friend in a startled way. "I know who
sent Ruth those presents. It was Elfreda herself. I'm sure of it. She
knew Ruth to be too proud to accept clothes, so she sent them
anonymously. Now I know why those 'a's' and 's's' looked so familiar.
That's Elfreda's writing. I know she did it. She just had to be nice in
spite of herself," concluded Grace.
"But why do you think it was Elfreda?" persisted Miriam.
"It was what you said that put me on the right track," replied Grace. "I
believe she made up her mind that day to send Ruth the suit and hat."
"If she did send them, there is still hope that she will come back to
us," said Anne.
It was agreed among the three girls that not even Ruth should be told of
their suspicions, and that if any possible opportunity arose to
conciliate Elfreda it should be promptly seized.
During the short space of time that elapsed before the dreaded
examination week swooped down upon them, the three friends were too busy
preparing for the coming ordeal to give much thought to the discovery
they had made. Elfreda avoided them so persistently that there seemed
small chance of getting within speaking distance. It was a week of
painful suspense, broken only by brief outbursts of jubilation when some
particularly formidable examination, that everyone had worried over,
seemingly to the point of gray hairs, turned out better than had been
expected.
In the campus houses wholesale permission to burn midnight oil had been
granted. Lights shone until late hours and flushed faces bent earnestly
over text books as though trying to absorb their contents verbatim. On
Friday, the strain, that had been lessening imperceptibly with each
succeeding examination, snapped, and Overton began to think about many
things that had no bearing on examinations.
"I'm almost dead!" exclaimed Grace, coming into her room on Friday
afternoon and dropping into the Morris chair near the window.
"I'm tired, too," returned Anne, who had come in just ahead of her, and
was engaged in putting her freshly laundered clothing in the two drawers
of the chiffonier that belonged to her.
"Thank goodness, we have four whole days of rest between terms at any
rate," sighed Grace. "I'm going to skate and be out of doors as much as
I can. I must make a few calls, too. I'm going to give a dinner at
Vinton's, too. I'll invite Mabel, Frances, Gertrude Wells, Arline
Thayer, Ruth, of course. That makes five," counted Grace on her fingers.
"Oh, yes, Constance Fuller, six, you two girls, and myself. That makes
nine. I told Mother about it when I was at home and she gave me the
money for it. I'll have it Tuesday night. The new term begins Wednesday.
To-morrow I'll go calling and deliver my invitations in the morning.
There's a trial basketball game to-morrow afternoon."
"When will there be a real game?" asked Anne. "I haven't heard you
mention basketball for ages."
"Christmas and examinations put a damper on it, but now all the girls
are anxious to play and we have challenged the sophomores to play
against us the second Saturday afternoon in February. I am going to play
right guard, and Miriam is to play left forward. A Miss Martin is our
center, and two freshmen I don't know very well are to play the left
guard and right forward. We have a good team. Miss Martin is a wonder.
You can see us practice if you wish, Anne."
"Perhaps I will," returned Anne. "Who is on the sophomore team?"
"I don't know," answered Grace. "I don't have much to say to the
sophomores. Most of them appear to dislike me, consequently I shall
greatly enjoy vanquishing them at basketball."
At the dinner table that night a discussion concerning Saturday's
practice game arose, to which Grace and Miriam listened quietly without
taking part.
"I suppose I ought to go to this practice game, to see what the freshmen
team can do. I think we can make them look sick and sorry before we are
through with them," drawled Virginia Gaines.
Grace and Miriam exchanged lightning glances. This was the first
intimation they had received that Virginia intended to play on the
sophomore team. Miriam frowned. She was thinking of the time when she
had been Grace's enemy on the basketball field and off. The recollection
was not pleasant. It was very unfortunate that they had to oppose
Virginia. Miriam determined to look out for herself and Grace, too, on
the day of the game. Involuntarily her face hardened with resolve. She
set her lips firmly, then glancing in the direction of Virginia she saw
Elfreda, who sat next to the sophomore at the table, eyeing her
intently. There was a disagreeable smile on the stout girl's face as she
leaned toward Virginia and made a low-toned remark. Miss Gaines looked
toward Miriam, smiled maliciously, and shrugged her shoulders.
"That's a danger signal," decided Miriam. "She does mean mischief. I'll
speak to Grace about it as soon as we go upstairs." But before they left
the dining room the door bell rang. The maid admitted Gertrude Wells and
Arline Thayer, and in the pleasure of seeing them, Miriam's resolve to
warn Grace was quite forgotten.
The practice game ended in an overwhelming advantage for Grace's team.
The other team behaved good-naturedly over their defeat and challenged
the winners to play again the following Saturday. They promptly accepted
the challenge, and, when the second practice game was played, again came
off victorious.
Grace's old basketball ardor had returned threefold and every available
moment found her in the gymnasium hard at work. The other members of the
teams had imbibed considerable of her enthusiasm. Miss Martin, the
center, laughingly said Grace was a human whirlwind and simply made the
rest of the team play to keep up with her. Miriam's playing also evoked
considerable praise. The first Saturday in February marked the last game
with the Number Two team. It turned out to be quite an event and the
gallery of the gymnasium was crowded with a mixed representation of
classes. Virginia Gaines and Elfreda sat in the first row, and as the
play proceeded Virginia watched the skilful tactics of Miriam and Grace
with anything but enthusiasm. Elfreda, narrowly watching her companion,
read apprehension in Virginia's face, although she made light of the
playing of the freshmen team and predicted an easy victory for the
sophomores. Scarcely knowing why she did so, Elfreda had doggedly
insisted that if the sophomores hoped to beat that freshman team, they
would have to play exceptionally well. Whereupon an argument arose
regarding the respective merits of the two teams that lasted all the way
to Wayne Hall, and ended in the two girls not speaking to each other
again that night.
"Did you see Elfreda in the gallery this afternoon?" asked Anne, as she
and Grace left the gymnasium and set out for Wayne Hall. Anne had waited
in the dressing room until Grace finished dressing.
"I did not see any one," laughed Grace. "I was far too busy. I am
surprised to learn that she came to the game."
"She was there, in the third row balcony," replied Anne. "She sat with
Virginia Gaines, who looked ferocious enough to bite."
"I wish something would happen to make Elfreda see that we are her
friends," sighed Grace.
"She will see, some day," predicted Anne. "Sooner or later she will
realize her mistake and come back to us."