PRACTICING FOR THE INDOOR MEET
The last bell had just sounded and the girls were leaving the schoolroom
for the day. Two weeks had passed since the Valentine party. Today was
Wednesday and the coming Saturday was the date fixed for the Indoor
Meet.
The Whitehead School basket-ball team was to meet the Seddon Hall girls
for their annual game. The year before they had played at Whitehead and
were beaten. This year the game was to be played at Seddon Hall and the
girls were determined there should be no more defeats.
"Wait a minute, you two," called Connie, as she and Angela caught up
with Polly and Lois in the schoolroom corridor. "I've news; such news!"
"What is it?" inquired Lois, in the act of retying Polly's hair ribbon.
"Don't breathe a word about it. I don't suppose Louise Preston wants it
known all over the school," answered Connie. "But as I was going through
Senior Corridor to my music lesson, I heard her say to Gladys Couch
(jumping center on the big team): 'Then you won't be here for Saturday?'
And Glid said: 'Isn't it awful, Louise, but I don't see how I can
possibly get back before Monday.' Well, of course, Polly, you know what
that means."
"What's the giddy secret?" sang out Betty, coming towards them from one
of the classrooms.
"Bet, oh, Bet, catch me quick!" cried Polly, falling into her arms in a
mock faint. "Such news! Tell her, some one, quick!"
"Wah!" exclaimed Betty when she had heard. "You'll have to play on the
big team, Polly. Isn't that bully!"
As they all stood talking it over, in subdued whispers, Louise Preston
appeared at the other end of the corridor.
"Oh, Polly," she called, "can you spare me a few minutes? Let's go in
this classroom; then we won't be disturbed."
She put her arm around Polly's shoulder as she had done the first day.
Once inside the classroom, she began:
"We've had some pretty bad news this morning. Gladys Couch received a
telegram that her brother is going to be married on Saturday. Well, of
course, Glid will have to go home. She can't very well ask them to
postpone the wedding," she added, smiling, "and that leaves us without a
jumping center. Polly, you know we simply must win this game. You'll
have to play and you'll have to play as you never played before. Better
get some practicing in and, remember, I'm depending on you."
She was gone before Polly could realize what had happened. She spent the
rest of the day in the gym with Lois and Betty as Louise had suggested.
Misfortunes never come singly. The next day Flora Illington, the other
substitute center, had a phone message that her father was very ill and
she had to leave at once. Flora was just one of the girls at Seddon
Hall; apart from her position on the team, she had no particular place
in the school.
However, it was with genuine sympathy and feeling that the girls saw her
leave and the week after heard of her father's death.
Flora never returned to school and after the letters of condolence were
written and answered, she was forgotten.
Polly met Louise in the gym that afternoon.
"Isn't it dreadful about Flora?" she began.
"Yes, I hope there's nothing serious the matter with her father," Louise
answered. Then with a sigh: "I suppose I'm a brute, but I can't help
thinking, there goes another substitute."
"Cheer up," advised Polly, "she probably wouldn't have been needed. How
are the songs getting along?"
"Wonderfully! Betty and Angela handed in two dandies today, but of
course I'm looking to the Juniors for most of them."
"Well, so long."
"Don't work too hard, and don't you dare hurt yourself."
"I won't, and you cheer up."
Louise left the gym and Polly jumped into the game, calmly taking the
ball out of Connie's astonished hands.
She worked furiously all afternoon and when next she had a minute to
breathe she was back in her own room getting ready for her bath.
"I tell you, Polly," sang out Betty from across the hall, "you certainly
played this afternoon."
"Hum!" Polly grumbled, screwing her hair up into a tight knot. "I made a
nasty foul. Thank goodness Louise wasn't there."
"Aren't you two slow pokes ready for your baths yet?" demanded Lois,
thumping on the door.
"Well, I can't find my slippers," Polly complained, rummaging under the
bed. "Angela," she called, "darling Angela, please lend me your
slippers."
"All right, here they come." And a pair of Chinese slippers flew through
the transom.
"Thanks! Oh, I say, I asked for slippers, not stilts," Polly grumbled.
"How do you keep the crazy things on?"
"Ingratitude, thy name is Polly," began Angela, but Polly was half way
down the hall and out of hearing, with Lois and Betty. Lois was saying:
"How did you ever manage to make that foul?" And Polly explained, just
as they came to the head of the stairs.
"Why, Connie had the ball and I jumped for it. She tried to pass it to
Dot and I thought I could get it by batting it back, like this--"
She leaned forward to show what she meant, completely forgetting the
stairs. Angela's slippers gave a half twist and she plunged headlong
down the steps.
Miss King said her ankle was badly sprained and the doctor was summoned.
She lay on the infirmary bed, biting her lips and trying to keep back
the tears. The doctor had strapped her ankle and told Miss King that she
was not to put her foot to the ground for two weeks.
At last Louise's voice sounded outside the door.
"All right," she was saying. "I promise to stay only a second." And in a
minute she was at Polly's side. It was more than the poor child could
stand. She burst into tears and hid her face in the pillows.
"Oh, Louise," she sobbed, "can you ever forgive me? And you told me to
be careful!"
"Why, honey child, you couldn't help it," comforted Louise. "Here, cheer
up, you'll make yourself sick. Angela's downstairs tearing her hair out
and swearing vengeance on her poor slippers."
"But the game! Who'll play in my place?" wailed Polly.
"That is just what I came up to talk to you about," Louise told her.
"Can you suggest any one? We're stumped."
"Wouldn't Betty do? I know she'd be careful about fouls. Please give her
a chance."
"I think perhaps you're right. I'll go and talk to her," Louise replied.
"Be good, dear, and don't worry. I know it's a terrible disappointment."
And she leaned over and kissed Polly's hot cheek.
"All right, I'll try. If you see Lois will you ask her to come up and
talk to me? I'll go crazy if I have to stay here alone."
But it was not until some hours later that Lois appeared. Miss King
thought solitude the best thing for Polly's feverish condition.
"You are a nice one," grumbled Polly when Lois entered the room. "I
thought you were never coming near me again."
"Come near you! Why, I've been sitting outside Miss King's door all
afternoon, waiting for permission to see you. Poor darling! How's the
ankle? Awfully painful?" explained Lois.
"Do you mean to tell me Miss King wouldn't let you in before now?"
demanded Polly.
"Yes; she said you were very feverish and she wanted you to rest; and
for goodness' sake don't excite yourself or I'll have to leave; you must
be kept quiet."
"And here I've been thinking you a cold-hearted wretch all afternoon.
Just wait till I see Miss King!"
"What are you going to do to her?" asked that lady herself, poking her
white-capped head around the corner of the door.
"Oh, there you are, eh?" laughed Polly. "Why wouldn't you let Lois come
in before?"
"Because I'm a cross old thing," laughed Miss King. "But just to show
you that I can be nice sometimes, if you have no more fever I'll let her
stay and have supper with you. Now what am I?"
"You're a darling and I'll love you forever, but don't you dare find I
have a fever," replied Polly.
Miss King did find her temperature a little above normal, but so little
that Lois was permitted to stay, and the two of them had such a jolly
time that Polly almost succeeded in forgetting the coming game and her
own disappointment, and you may be sure Lois carefully kept off that
dangerous subject. The time passed so quickly that the bell for study
hour rang long before they expected it, and Lois had to fly to escape
being late.
"Lo, half a minute," Betty called just before the good-night bell. "I've
something to tell you. I am chosen to fill Polly's place tomorrow.
Louise just told me."
"I'm awfully glad for you, Bet," answered Lois. "I know you'll make
good, but--"
"Yes, it's that but that makes me so miserable," replied Betty. "How can
I be excited and pleased when I know Polly's up there in the
infirmary--Oh, it makes me sick to think of it!" she finished, and before
Lois could reply, she had disappeared into her own room and closed the
door.
"Poor Betty," sighed Lois sympathetically. "It's all a mean shame."
Just before Miss King turned out the infirmary lights, she delivered a
note to Polly. It read:
"Polly Dear:
"Louise has asked me to play in your place on Saturday. I know you
suggested it to her, too. Well, my chance has come and I am miserably
unhappy at the very thought. I know I'll make a million fouls and
we'll lose the game. Darn every bedroom slipper that was ever
invented!
"Your doleful,
"Betty."
"Poor old Bet," smiled Polly. "Well, if she only makes good I won't be
half so unhappy at not playing myself."
In less than five minutes she was sound asleep, and the next morning
Miss King pronounced her temperature normal.