once more and grew fainter as the girls neared the gym.
Poor Polly buried her head in the pillow and sobbed:
“To think of my having a chance to play in the big game and then not being able to! Why, I can’t even watch it!” she cried. “Why didn’t I see those hateful steps?”
Miss King came in and asked if there was anything she could do.
“I am quite at your service,” she assured her.
“Do you really mean that?” answered Polly. “Then go over to the gym and watch the game for a little while and come back and tell me how it’s going, and if we have a chance. I promise to be good,” she added.
Miss King thought it over and decided to go. It would please her unhappy patient, and besides she loved to see a good game herself.
“I won’t stay very long,” she said. “If you want anything you can reach the bell that rings in the other house.”
“Don’t come back unless we are winning,” called Polly as she watched the white nurse’s cap disappear down the long flight of steps that led from the infirmary to the ground. They had been built so that if there were any contagious cases in the infirmary, the girls could reach the grounds without going into any other part of the buildings.
Then, tired from the excitement of the day, she sank back in the pillows to rest until Miss King’s