Marjorie's confidential talk with her Captain brought to her a renewal
of faith in herself, which carried her along serenely through various
small difficulties which continually sprang up in her junior path. One
of them was Miss Merton, who seemed always on the watch for an
opportunity to belittle the girl she so detested. Still another was the
hostile interest Mignon La Salle had again begun to take in her. Hardly
a day passed without an angry recital on Jerry's part of something she
had heard against Marjorie, which had originally come from Mignon or
Rowena Farnham. Mignon's ally, Charlotte Horner, was an equal source for
provocation. Although she had no special right to do so, she often
dropped in on junior basket ball practice merely to find food for
adverse criticism of Marjorie. She watched the latter with a hawk-like
eye, only to go forth and make capital of any small imperfection in
Marjorie's playing, which she saw or fancied she saw.
The fact that Rowena Farnham was a member of the sophomore team did not
add to Marjorie's happiness. She had no wish to come into such close
contact with her, which the approaching games between the two teams
would necessitate. From Jerry, the indefatigable news-gatherer, she had
learned that Rowena was a skilful, but rather rough player. Knowing her
to be utterly without scruple, Marjorie had small reason to believe she
could be trusted to play an absolutely fair game against her opponents.
Rowena was already becoming an insolent power in the sophomore class.
Her extreme audacity, coupled with her good looks and fine clothes,
brought her a certain amount of prestige in Sanford High School. She
possessed to a marked degree that impudent quality of daring, which is
so peculiarly fascinating to school girls.
Although she was not sincerely liked she was admired and feared. She had
a fund of clever sayings at her command, which gave her a reputation for
brilliancy. The frequent reproof of her teachers rolled off her like
water from a duck's back. She made public sport of whomever she pleased,
whenever it pleased her to do so, with a conscienceless air of good
humor that rendered her a dangerous foe. She never hesitated to forge
her way to whatever she wanted, in a hail-fellow-well-met manner which
changed like a flash to insolence with the slightest opposition offered.
She was a bully of the first water, but with the glamor of her newness
still upon her, the worst side of her nature was yet to be revealed to
many.
Marjorie Dean and Jerry Macy, at least, entertained no illusions
concerning her. Neither did Mignon La Salle. For once in her life,
Mignon was beginning to find herself completely overshadowed by a nature
far more hatefully mischievous than her own. True she was Rowena's most
intimate friend. Yet there were times when she inwardly regretted having
rushed blindly into such a friendship. Striving ever to rule, now she
was invariably overruled. Instead of being leader, she became follower.
Rowena criticized, satirized and domineered over her, all in the name of
friendship. Had she been anyone else, Mignon would not have borne long
with her bullying. She would have speedily put an end to their
association. Rowena, however, was one not thus easily to be dropped. In
Mignon she glimpsed powers for mischief-making only secondary to her
own. She preferred, therefore, to cling to her and was clever enough
never to allow Mignon's flashes of resentment against her
high-handedness to mature into open rebellion. Those who knew the French
girl for exactly what she was agreed that Mignon had at last met her
match. They also agreed that a taste of her own medicine would no doubt
do her a great deal of good.
The approach of Thanksgiving also brought with it a stir of excitement
for the coming basket ball game, the first to be played in a series of
four, which were scheduled to take place at intervals in the school
year. The sophomore team had already played the freshman and given them
a complete white-washing. Now they were clamoring to meet the juniors
and repeat their victory. The junior team had attended the
freshman-sophomore game in a body, thereby realizing to the full the
strength of their opponents. Reluctantly, they were forced to admit the
brilliancy of Rowena Farnham as a player. She knew the game and she went
into it with a dash and vigor that marked her as a powerful adversary.
Naturally, it won her an admiration which she determined should grow and
deepen with each fresh achievement.
Her doughty deeds on the floor of contest merely imbued the junior team
with stronger resolution to win the coming game. They practised with
stubborn energy, sedulously striving to overcome whatever they knew to
be their weak points. Though manager of all the teams, Ellen Seymour's
heart was secretly with them. This they felt rather than knew.
Outwardly, Ellen was impartial. She made them no show of favoritism, but
they divined that she would rejoice to see them win. There was no doubt
of the smoothness of their team work. Having played basket ball on the
freshman and sophomore teams, Marjorie Dean herself knew that the squad
of which she was now a member excelled any other of past experience.
Fairly confident that it could hold its own, she looked impatiently
forward to the hour of action.
To set one's heart too steadfastly on a particular thing, seems
sometimes to court disappointment. On the Thursday before the game an
unexpected state of affairs came to pass. It started with a notice on
the bulletin board requesting the presence of the junior team in the
gymnasium at four o'clock that afternoon. It was signed "Ellen Seymour,
Manager." Naturally, the juniors thought little of it. They were
accustomed to such notices. Ellen, no doubt, had some special
communication to make that had to do with them. But when five minutes
after four saw them gathered in the gymnasium to meet their manager, her
sober face warned them that the unusual was afoot.
"Girls, I have something to ask of you which you may not wish to do. I
am not going to urge you to do it. You are free to choose your own
course. As it especially concerns you, yours is the right to decide. Two
girls of the sophomore team are ill. Martha Tyrell has come down with
tonsilitis, and Nellie Simmons is threatened with pneumonia. Both are in
bed. They can't possibly play on Saturday. The sophs are awfully cut up
about it. They wouldn't mind using one sub, but two, they say, is one
too many. They have asked me to ask you if you are willing to postpone
the game until these girls are well again."
"I don't see why we should," objected Captain Muriel Harding. "I don't
believe they'd do the same for us. Of what use are subs, if not to
replace absent players?"
"That's what I think," put in Daisy Griggs. "It's too provoking.
Everyone is looking forward to the game. If we don't play we'll
disappoint a whole lot of people. It's very nervy in the sophs to ask us
to do such a thing. Besides, we are crazy to wear our new suits."
Ellen smiled quizzically. "Remember, you are to do as you please about
it," was all she said, betraying neither pleasure or displeasure at the
ready protests.
"I suppose the sophomores will think us awfully mean if we don't do as
they ask," ventured Rita Talbot.
"Oh, let them think," declared Susan Atwell impatiently. "It's the first
time I ever heard of such a thing. They must be terribly afraid we'll
beat them."
"That's just the point." At this juncture Marjorie broke into the
discussion. "If we insist on playing and win, they might say we won
because we had them at a disadvantage. That wouldn't be much of a
victory, would it?"
"That's so." Muriel reluctantly admitted the force of Marjorie's
argument. "I know at least one of them who would say just that."
"Mustn't be personal," gently chided Ellen. Nevertheless, there was a
twinkle in her blue eyes. The sophomore who had come to her had
insinuated what Marjorie had voiced. "I'll give you ten minutes to talk
it over. I promised to let the sophomores know to-night. The girl who
came to me is waiting in the senior locker room for your answer."
"I'm ready to decide now," asserted Marjorie. "For my part I'm willing
to postpone the game."
"We might as well," conceded Captain Muriel ruefully. Marjorie's point
had gone home. "If we win we want it to be a sweeping victory."
One by one the three other interested parties agreed that it seemed best
to yield gracefully to the plea.
"Now that you've all spoken I'm going to tell you my opinion," announced
Ellen. "I am glad that you are willing to do this. It becomes you as
juniors. No one can say that you have been anything but strictly
generous. You deserve a crown of victory for being so nice about this."
Ellen's conclusion brought a smile to five faces. Her remark might be
construed as a declaration of favor toward them.
"I believe you'd love to see us win the whole four games, Ellen
Seymour," was Muriel's frank comment.
"As your august manager, my lips are sealed," Ellen retorted laughingly.
"Now I must leave you and put an anxious sophomore out of her misery.
While you are waiting for the sick to get well you can put in some more
practice." With this injunction she left them.
Once out of the gymnasium, her smile vanished. The anxious sophomore was
Rowena Farnham. Ellen cherished small liking for this arrogant,
self-centered young person whose request had been more in the nature of
a command. Personally, she had not favored putting off the game. Had
illness befallen a member or members of any team on which she had
formerly played, no such favor would have been asked. Nothing short of
incapacitation of the whole squad would have brought forth a stay in
activities. Yet as manager she was obliged to be strictly impersonal.
True, she might have exercised her authority and herself made the
decision. But she had deemed the other way wisest.
On entering the senior locker room she was still more annoyed to find
Mignon La Salle with Rowena. If Ellen disliked the latter, she had less
love for the tricky French girl. "Birds of a feather," she mentally
styled them as she coldly bowed to Mignon. Her chilly recognition was
not returned. Mignon had not forgiven her for the try-out.
"Well, what's the verdict?" inquired Rowena, satirically pleasant. Her
manner toward dignified Ellen verged on insolence.
"The junior team are willing to postpone the game," informed Ellen
briefly. She intended the interview to be a short one.
"They know on which side their bread is buttered," laughed the other
girl. "I suppose they weren't specially delighted. Did they make much
fuss before they gave in?"
"As I have delivered my message, I will say 'good afternoon,'" Ellen
returned stiffly.
"Don't be in too much of a hurry," drawled Rowena. "When I ask a
question, I expect an answer."
"Good afternoon." Ellen wheeled and walked calmly from the locker room.
Rowena's expectations were a matter of indifference to the disgusted
manager. She, at least, was not to be bullied.
Mignon La Salle laughed unpleasantly. "You were foolish to waste your
breath on her." She wagged her black head in the direction of the door,
which had just closed behind Ellen. "You didn't impress her _that_
much." She snapped her fingers significantly.
Smarting under the dignified snubbing Ellen had administered, Rowena
hailed Mignon as an escape valve. "You keep your remarks to yourself,"
she blustered. "How dare you stand there laughing and snapping your
fingers? No wonder people say you're two-faced and tricky. You're so
deceitful you don't know your own mind. One minute you come whining to
me about this Seymour snip, the next you take sides with her."
"I wasn't standing up for her and you know it," muttered Mignon. As
always, Rowena's brutally expressed opinion of herself had a vastly
chastening effect on the designing French girl. Rowena never minced
matters. She delivered her remarks straight from the shoulder,
indifferent to whether they pleased or displeased. Mignon's disregard
for sincerity and honor suited her admirably. She was equally devoid of
these virtues. Mignon made an excellent confederate. Still, she had to
be kept in her place. Her very love of subtle intrigue made plain
speaking abhorrent to her. On occasions when Rowena mercilessly held
before her the mirror of truth, she invariably retired in confusion. At
the same time she entertained a wholesome respect for the one who thus
dared to do it. This explained to a great extent the strong influence
which Rowena exerted over her. She was not happy in this new friendship.
More than once she had meditated ending it. Fear of the other's furious
retaliation was a signal preventative. Rowena, as a friend, was greatly
to be preferred to Rowena as an enemy.
As she sulkily viewed the Titian-haired tyrant, who knew her too well
for her own peace of mind, she wondered why she had not flung back taunt
for taunt. Perhaps Rowena made a shrewd guess regarding her thoughts.
Adopting a milder tone she said brusquely: "Oh, quit pouting and come
along. None of these stupid girls are worth quarreling over. I suppose
that Marjorie Dean, the big baby, told Miss Seymour something hateful
about me. That's the reason she acted so frosty."
At the mere mention of Marjorie's name Mignon's elfish face grew dark.
She and Rowena had at least one bond in common, they both despised
Marjorie Dean. Mignon reflected that no scheme she had devised for
humbling the former had ever borne lasting fruit. Rowena might succeed
where she had failed. Rowena had sworn reprisal for the affair of the
algebra problem. Undoubtedly, she would seize upon the first opportunity
for retaliation. With such a glorious prospect ahead of her, Mignon
craftily decided to stick to Rowena and share in her triumph.