ON THE EVE OF BATTLE
But little time remained before the first basketball game of the series between the sophomores and juniors. Both teams had been untiring in their practice. There had been no further altercations between them as to the use of the gymnasium, for the juniors, fearing the wrath of Miss Thompson, were more circumspect in their behavior, and let the sophomore team strictly alone.
"They are liable to break out at any time, you can trust them just as far as you can see them and no farther, and that's the truth," cried Nora O'Malley. The sophomore players were standing in the corridor outside the gymnasium awaiting the pleasure of the juniors, whose practice time was up.
"They are supposed to be out of here at four o'clock," continued Nora, "and it's fifteen minutes past four now. They are loitering on purpose They don't dare to do mean things openly since Miss Thompson lectured them so, but they make up for it by being aggravating."
"Never mind, Nora," said Grace, smiling at Nora's outburst. "We'll whip them off the face of the earth next Saturday."
"Well, I hope so," said Nora, "I am sure we are better players."
"What outrageous conceit," said Jessica, and the four girls laughed merrily.
"By the way, Grace," said Anne, "I want to ask you something about that list you gave me. I don't quite understand what one of those signals means."
"Trot it out," said Grace. "I'll have time to tell you about it before the practice actually begins."
Anne took out her purse and began searching for the list. It was not to be found.
"Why, how strange," she said. "I was looking at it this morning on the way to school. I wonder if I have lost it. That would be dreadful."
She turned her purse upside down, shaking it energetically, but no list fell out.
"Oh, never mind," said Grace, seeing Anne's distress. "It's of no consequence. No one will ever find it anyway. Suppose it were found, who would know what it meant?"
"Yes, but one would know," persisted Anne, "because I wrote 'Sophomore basketball signals' on the outside of it. Oh, dear, I don't see how I could have been so careless."
"Poor little Anne," said Jessica, "she is always worried over something or other."
"Now see here, Anne," said Grace, "just because you lost a letter last term and had trouble over it, don't begin to mourn over those old signals. No one will ever see them, and perhaps you haven't lost them. Maybe you'll find them at home."
"Perhaps I shall," said Anne brightening.
"Now smile Anne," said Nora, "and forget your troubles. There is no use in crossing bridges before you come to them."
This homely old saying seemed to console Anne, and soon she was eagerly watching the work of the team, her brief anxiety forgotten.
That night she searched her room, and the next day gave her desk in school a thorough overhauling, but the list of signals remained missing.
The sophomore players with their substitute team met that afternoon in the gymnasium. It was their last opportunity for practice. Saturday they would rise to victory or go down in ignominious defeat. The latter seemed to them impossible. They had practised faithfully, and Grace had been so earnest in her efforts to perfect their playing that they were completely under her control and moved like clockwork. There was no weak spot in the team. Every point had been diligently worked over and mastered. They had played several games with the freshmen and had won every time, so Grace was fairly confident of their success.
"Oh, girls," she cried, wringing her hands in her earnestness, "don't make any mistakes. Keep your heads, all of you. I am convinced we are better players than the juniors, even if they did get the pennant last year. For one thing I don't think they work together as well as we do, and that's really the main thing. Miriam, you missed practice yesterday. You are going to stay to-day, aren't you?"
Miriam nodded without replying. She was busy with her own thoughts. She wished she could hit upon some way to humiliate Grace Harlowe. But what could she do? That was the question. The members of the team adored their gray-eyed, independent young captain, therefore she would have to be very careful.
She had been steadily losing ground with her class on account of her constant association with the juniors, and the slightest misstep on her part would jeopardize her place on the team. She had a genuine love for the game, and since she couldn't play on the junior team, she concluded it would be just as well not to lose her place with the sophomores. In her heart she cared nothing for her class. She had tried to be their leader, and Grace had supplanted her, but now Grace should pay for it.
All this passed through Miriam's mind as she covertly watched Grace, who was reassuring Anne for the fiftieth time, not to worry over the lost signals.
"Don't tell any one about it," she whispered to Anne. "You may find them yet."
Anne shook her head sorrowfully. She felt in some way that those signals were bound to make trouble for her.
"By the way, girls," said Grace, addressing the team, "has any one any objection to Anne and Jessica staying to see the practice game? They have seen all our work and are now anxious to see the practice game. They know all the points, but they want to see how the new signal code works."
"Of course not," answered the girls. "We won't turn Oakdale's star pupil out of the gym. Anne shall be our mascot. As for Jessica, she is a matter of course."
"I object," said Miriam. "I object seriously."
"Object?" repeated Grace, turning in amazement to Miriam. "Why?"
"You know that it is against all basketball rules to allow any one in the gymnasium during practice except the regular team and the subs. If we follow our rules then we shall be certain that nothing we do reaches the ears of the juniors. We have always made an exception of Jessica, but I don't think we should allow any one else here."
"And do you think that Anne Pierson would carry information?" exclaimed Grace sharply. "Really, Miriam, you are provoking enough to try the patience of a saint. Just as if Anne, who is the soul of honor, would do such a thing."
An indignant murmur arose from the girls. They were all prepared to like little Anne, although they did not know her very well.
"How can you say such things, Miriam?" cried Nora.
"I didn't say she would," said Miriam rather alarmed at the storm she had raised. "But I do think it is better to be careful. However, have it your own way. But if we lose the game——"
She paused. Her judgment told her she had said enough. If anything did happen, the blame would fall on Grace's shoulders.
Anne, deeply hurt, tried to leave the gymnasium but the girls caught her, and brought her back again. She shed a few tears, but soon forgot her grief in the interest of the game.
"Girls," said Grace, as she and Nora and Jessica walked down the street that night after leaving Anne at her corner, "we must look out for Anne. It is evident from the way Miriam acted to-day that she will never lose an opportunity to hurt Anne's feelings. I thought perhaps time would soften her wrath, but it looks as though she still nursed her old grudge."
How true Grace's words were to prove she could not at that time foresee.
"Well," said Nora, "Anne is one of the nicest girls in Oakdale, and if Miriam knows when she's well off she'll mind her own business."
The day before the game, as Grace was leaving school, she heard David's familiar whistle and turned to see the young man hurrying toward her, a look of subdued excitement upon his face.
"I've been looking all over for you, Grace," he said, as he lifted his cap to her. "I have something to tell you. This afternoon after school, Reddy, Hippy and I went out to the old Omnibus House. I wanted to show the fellows some things about my machine. While we were out there who should appear but Julia Crosby and some more of her crowd. They were having a regular pow-wow and were in high glee over something. We kept still because we knew if they saw us they'd descend upon us in a body. They stayed a long time and Julia Crosby made a speech. I couldn't hear what she said, but it seemed to be about the proper thing, for her satellites applauded about every two minutes. Then they got their heads together and all talked at once. While they were so busy we skipped out without being noticed. I thought I'd better tell you, for I have an idea they are putting up some scheme to queer you in the game to-morrow; so look out for them."
"Thank you, David," answered Grace. "You are always looking after our interests. I wonder what those juniors are planning. They are obliged to play a fair game, for they know perfectly well what will happen if they don't. Miss Thompson will be there to-morrow, and they know she has her eye on them."
"Put not your trust in juniors," cautioned David. "They may elude even her watchful eye."
"You are coming to see us play to-morrow, aren't you, David?" asked Grace.
"I'll be there before the doors are open, with Reddy and Hippy at my heels," responded David. "Good-bye, Grace. Look out for squalls to-morrow."