Maxine herself made a brilliant play the next moment, and her friends on the benches and side lines showed their approval wildly. And then a basket was made splendidly by Beth.
Silence. For a moment, dead silence. Then Molly led a weak and forlorn applause. But the snub of the little brunette beauty, who was playing so well and vigorously, was so plain that the entire audience marked it.
Whispering among the elders, laughter among the girls, followed the incident. The whistle called the half with the home five badly behind. The visitors scored six points over them.
In the dressing room allotted to the Rivercliff five, Miss Crossleigh thanked them for their work and encouraged them.
“There seems to be some schoolgirl foolishness afoot,” the instructor added, rather sharply. “One of us seems to be unpopular——”
“Miss Crossleigh,” said Beth, quickly, “if you think that I had better retire and let a substitute take my place——”
“No, no!” the other girls of the team cried.
“Why, Beth Baldwin!” Maxine said, warmly, “you have done better than any of us. Isn’t that so, Miss Crossleigh?”
“I will not say that,” said the lady, smiling. “You have each done your best, I believe, and I want you to keep at it. Show them that although they may win this game from us you are all good sports. Of course, Miss Baldwin will finish the game.”
And cheered somewhat by this, when the whistle announced the game was on for the second half, Beth went out with renewed vigor. Almost at once she got another basket. This time there was a pronounced hiss from one group on the benches. Needless to say Maude Grimshaw was the central figure of that group.