“I have? I’ve hinted? Well, that’s news to me,” declared Marie jovially. “I just said that I’d try to think, didn’t I, or some pretty speech like that? Well, I—I’ve been fearfully busy. But of course, if you’re depending on me——” Marie paused to giggle riotously. “I never saw a basket-ball game, you know,—a big one, that is, with lots of people watching and all that. Couldn’t we—couldn’t we—rattle the other side?”
“How?” demanded the freshman president inexorably.
Marie indulged in her very Frenchiest shrug. “Why, the regular ways, I suppose, only more so.”
“That’s easy to say,” the freshman president objected sternly. “But the Invincibles won’t rattle in any regular way. They’re too sure of themselves.”
“Well, then,” said Montana Marie calmly, “it’s certainly up to us to think of some unusual ways.” She settled herself more comfortably in Connie’s easy chair, and passed the inexorable freshman president a box of very expensive chocolates. “Now you folks go ahead and tell me about what happens at a big game. Go into all the details. Then maybe I shall have a thought on the subject of rattling those Invincibles. Fire away now. And keep the chocolates moving.”
The president began, rather scornfully. Never having seen a big game herself, she soon found herself somewhat hazy about details. So were the rest of the deputation. In the end Marie hunted up Connie, who had retired to a quieter spot for the purposes of study; and Connie, who, from much experience, believed in all Montana Marie’s strange methods, took up the tale. The team-mascots interested Marie extremely.
“Have we got one fixed up yet?” she demanded.
The deputation explained that they had. It was to be Professor Hart’s youngest son, arrayed in “invincible” armor.
Marie nodded approvingly. “What’s theirs?”
“We think they’ve got black Mandy’s little Mandy to be it,” explained the freshman president. “We don’t know how she’s going to be dressed.”