"Yes; can't she throw?"
"But I am interested in the jumping center. She can do all kinds of things."
"I am wondering why she does not do anything in particular," came the whisper. "She is one of our stars--Miss Allen."
"Oh, of course. I know Jane. And don't you see what she is doing? She is putting out the very finest line of team play I have ever witnessed. You just watch."
At the moment on the floor Jane was passing that ball with such skill, it never seemed to remain in her own hands long enough for any sort of play. All she did was pass it on. That was perfect team play, but it made very little impression on the spectators.
The game was now tied. Then the ball flew outside the lines. Breslin's jumping center recovered it and glanced over the situation for the fraction of a second. Her side center was too well guarded to send it to her; with a skilful toss, she aimed for the forward, who grabbed it.
"Now for the basket!" whispered the hopeful Breslins.
"Oh, Jane!" almost prayed the Wellington fans, as the ball was thrown back to center by the confused forward who was unable to pass it to her partner under the basket.
In the center Jane was surrounding her opponent like a veritable troop. The Bee was confused. Moments were counting, and she still held on to the ball.
"One--two and----" rang out in the gym.