THE CHOOSING OF THE TEAMS
"Polly, there's no use talking, you must learn to play basket-ball."
Lois had delivered this command a couple of days after the paper chase
and Polly had therefore spent hours in the gym during the month which
elapsed between then and the opening of this chapter.
It was now the first of November. There had already been one or two
really cold days, and every one had settled down to the routine of
school life. The strangeness had worn off for the new girls, so that
they had forgotten they were new.
The chief sport at Seddon Hall was basket-ball. On the first of November
every year six girls, from the Junior and Senior classes, were chosen
for the big team.
Three days later six substitutes were elected. These twelve girls were
the pick of the school, and twice a year they played against an outside
team.
Although any girl from any of the four upper classes might be chosen as
"subs," the team had hitherto been composed of Juniors and Seniors, with
an occasional Sophomore. The captain of the big team was elected early
in the term and was always from the Senior class.
Owing to the rather stiff exams of the year before, only eight of the
fourteen Juniors had made the Senior class. Those left had not all
returned and, counting specials, the Juniors had only eleven girls this
year. Fully a third of them were determined to work and had no time for
athletics.
There were plenty of Sophomores, fifteen in all, but they were a queer
lot. There is always a miscellaneous class and this year it was the
"sofs," who had been dubbed "the impossibles."
It had been rumored that on account of the scarcity of girls it was just
possible that the team might have to come down to the Freshman class for
substitutes, and great was the excitement.
Betty, Polly, and Lois were discussing this unheard-of possibility on
their return from practice.
"Of course it is just possible, but--" began Betty.
"No, it's too good to be true," sighed Lois. "Don't let's think about
it. But I say those 'sofs' are terrible. Well, I'm going to dress; so
long!" And she disappeared into her room.
"Betty, has a Freshman ever been on the sub team before?" Polly
inquired.
"Never in my time," answered Betty. "But, then, never, no, never was
there such a set of impossibles as the 'sofs,' nor was there ever such a
bully center to be found in the Freshman class." This with a meaning
glance at Polly, who had managed to get the ball after the toss-up a
remarkable number of times that day.
"Bet, you're crazy; why, I'm only a new girl. Lois would be first choice
and you second."
"You may be a new girl, but don't forget the paper chase," said Betty.
"But you're right about Lo; she is wonderful. She's all over the place
at once and she keeps her head. But as for me--no, I haven't a chance."
"Why, Betty, you're splendid at making baskets."
"What good does that do me when I can't keep inside those darn lines?
No, it's Lo or you; the rest of us haven't a chance."
"Chance for what?" inquired Lois, poking her head out of her room. "Are
you two still gabbing? You'll both be late for study hour." And giving
each girl a violent push, she brought an end to the conversation.
The choosing of the big team on Tuesday was just about what every one
had expected. There were four Seniors and two Juniors; most of them had
been substitutes the year before. Louise Preston had already been
elected captain.
The list of names had been posted Wednesday morning and the girls had
come in for their share of congratulations, but every one felt that the
real excitement would come on Friday.
Wednesday, as soon as Miss Hale dismissed them (the Freshmen had Latin
the last period, and the Spartan had the most aggravating way of not
hearing the bell), Lois, Polly and Betty dashed for the gym.
As they entered, Miss Stuart, the gym teacher, called to them:
"Seven and you three girls make ten. We need two more for a game. Some
one go and get Angela and Connie; tell them I think they need some
exercise."
Miss Stuart was a large, handsome woman, with a firm but good-natured
face. She was renowned for her fairness, and no one had ever even
criticized one of her decisions. She had no favorites, and the girls all
liked her tremendously.
In a few minutes Betty, who had gone off to search for Angela and
Connie, came back, dragging them each by an arm.
"Here they are," she called. "What'll I do with them?"
"Better superintend their getting into their gym suits," answered Miss
Stuart, "and make them hurry."
Ten minutes later she blew the whistle and tossed up the ball.
It was a good game. Polly was playing jumping center against Mary Reed,
a big heavy girl, slow in her movements, but hard to budge. Connie was
playing second center with Polly, and as she was no earthly help, Polly
had to bounce the ball to the line and throw it to Betty, who was
playing forward. Poor Betty was breaking her record for fouls.
Lois, guarding at the other end, was playing like a little fury. She had
to work, for Harriet Ames was so long and lanky that she managed to pick
the ball out of the air above her head, unless frantic efforts were used
to stop her.
Every one was so busy with the game that the arrival of Louise Preston
and two or three members of the big team passed unnoticed. They had
slipped in after the game had commenced and were watching each play very
carefully.
After the game the three girls met, as usual, in Roman Alley, as the
water was running for their cold tubs.
"Hum, I don't call that much of a score--fourteen to four." And Polly
sank down on the steps in disgust.
"That's because you were not trying to guard a giraffe with four arms,"
answered Lois, dropping down beside her.
Betty folded her arms in solemn dignity and stood looking at the two
girls on the steps.
"Is it possible, my children," she began, in a voice ridiculously like
the school chaplain's, "I repeat, is it possible that you have failed to
grasp the full significance of this day's work? Where were your eyes,
and have you lost the sense necessary for putting two and two together?"
Polly and Lois looked at her with puzzled expressions.
"Elucidate, Elizabeth, if you please," called a voice from the top of
the stairs, accompanied by the click-click of a pair of Chinese
slippers. Startled, the girls looked up, half expecting to see Miss Hale
descending upon them, but beheld, instead, Angela's grinning face and
curly hair above a pale blue woolly wrapper.
"Hey, make room there, you two!" she continued in her own voice, and as
she slipped in between Lois and Polly, she added:
"I repeat, elucidate, Elizabeth."
"Lordy," Betty murmured, "what a shock you gave me! The Spartan's had it
in for me and I've been trying to dodge her all day. But to continue,
you all seem to have lost your share of intelligence. Did you or did you
not see Louise Preston and some of the big team girls watching the game?
They were writing giddy little lists and having all kinds of solemn
powwows with Miss Stuart. Well, the reason is--"
"Stop!" exclaimed Polly. "Betty, you're positively leaping at
conclusions. You said yourself no Freshman had ever been chosen."
"And besides," interrupted Lois, "you're making my heart beat twice as
fast as it ought to."
"Well, of course," Angela remarked, getting up and stretching, "there's
no doubt in my mind that I will be chosen for the sub team. As for the
rest of you, you have a chance."
"You!" howled Betty. "A spoofy sub you'd make. You'd be helping Cæsar
build his old bridges every time the ball came your way."
Lois looked intently ahead of her.
"Now," she said, "I understand why Bet made all those fouls. Pure flunk,
we'd have all done the same thing if we'd known we were being watched.
And you never told us--Bet, you're a darling."
"I didn't mean that. I was done for, of course, and I knew it. But pass
on the merry news? Certainly not." And Betty, having delivered her pet
phrase, made for her bath and slammed the door.
Thursday and Friday mornings passed somehow and the fatal hour arrived.
Because of no school on Saturday, the Friday evening study hour was
omitted. The time was usually taken up by a lecture or a musical.
There was nothing on for tonight, however, and after dinner the girls
collected in the Assembly Hall. Miss Stuart, Louise Preston, and the
team were on the platform, and in a few minutes the names of the chosen
substitutes were to be read.
Betty, Lois, Polly, Angela, and Connie wandered off together to the
farthest corner of the room and tried to look indifferent. Betty
shivered.
"Shades of the Tower of London," she whispered. "I couldn't feel any
creepier if it were the Black List that was going to be read."
"It is uncanny," agreed Connie. "I never miss less than four balls out
of every five and yet I feel strangely excited."
Lois and Polly exchanged understanding glances, and then every one began
to say hush, and Miss Stuart and Louise stood up on the platform. When
everything was quiet, Miss Stuart began:
"Good evening, girls. The captain has asked me to read this list for
her. It's the names of the substitutes. If you will answer by coming up
to the platform, it will save time and keep the cheering for the end.
"'First, for guard, Mary Rhine, Junior.
Second, for guard, Edith Fisk, Sophomore.
Third, for home, Helen Nash, Sophomore.
Fourth, for home, Lois Farwell, Freshman.'"
(And in spite of the gasp of surprise, Miss Stuart continued as if she
had said nothing surprising.)
"'Fifth, for center, Flora Illington, Sophomore.
Sixth, for jumping center, Marianna Pendleton, Freshman.'
"Congratulations, girls, and may--" Miss Stuart's voice was completely
drowned in the cheer that went up.
Some one dragged Connie to the piano, and for the rest of the evening
they sang school and basket-ball songs and cheered all the six subs in
turn.
Of course Polly and Lois were wildly happy, and the entire Freshman
class shared in their joy. They boasted of having broken a record and
reminded everybody of what might be expected of them when they were
lofty Seniors.
It was only when Polly and Lois were alone in their rooms after the
"lights out" bell, that they remembered Betty.
Fifteen minutes later, when everything was very quiet along the
corridor, two ghost-like figures stole out of two doors and met at a
third across the way, and tapped gently.
Betty sat up in bed.
"Who is it?" she whispered.
"It's Polly," answered one ghost.
"It's Lois," answered the other.
A minute later, when they were both curled up on the bed, Lois found
Betty's hand and squeezed it.
"Betty, dear, I'm so sorry," she said.
"So am I," agreed Polly. "It's the only disappointment in this glorious
day."
"You know you're cut up about it, dear; no use pretending," pursued
Lois.
"We saw you leave long before the bell. Oh, Bet--" but Polly was cut
short.
"Saw me leave? I should think you might have; I didn't leave; I fled.
But not because--well not because of what you think, I saw the Spartan
coming."
"Then you were not in the 'blues' all evening?" asked Lois doubtingly.
"Certainly not," Betty assured her. "I was studying my Latin, and now do
let me go to sleep."
It sounded very well, but as Polly and Lois each gave her a good-night
kiss, they noticed a suspicious dampness about her pillow.
They stole safely back to their rooms, conscious of having broken a rule
for a good cause and, who knows, perhaps it was because the cause was
good that they were not caught.