Fluffy nodded dubiously. “The main thing I’ve learned,” she explained, “is that whatever is worth having in this world—like the right to make your own rules—is a bother to get and a bother to use. But I guess that’s no reason for not going in for the worth-while things.”
“Let’s have another soda all round,” suggested Montana Marie.
CHAPTER XVI
THE FRECKLES OF MISS A. PEASE
Harding College had never gone in heavily for track athletics. President Wallace discouraged intercollegiate meets, and class spirit in the matter seemed to be consumed by basket-ball rivalries, with milder interest in the spring term tennis matches. But the affair of the popping mascots rankled in the breasts of the sophomores. They resented the trickery that had lost the Invincibles their game, and they were bent on revenge, slow if need be, but sure and crushing. Only opportunity was lacking. Impulsive spirits had suggested one or two plans, but the class hung back cautiously.
“It must be a sure thing and as hard a hit as they gave us, or it won’t do at all,” Susanna Hart declared wisely.
In pursuance of this policy the sophomores had waited until May blossoms scented the air and May languor threatened to dull the edge of craft and strategy, leaving the freshmen in complacent possession of their ill-gotten victory. Finally the leading sophomores held a long and agitated conference under a tree in Paradise. But nobody had an idea that anybody else considered at all feasible, and they were about to adjourn in despair when Binks Ames, who was late as usual, jumped a stone wall to avoid a détour, and thereby gave Susanna Hart an inspiration.
“There’s the track meet. We can beat them all to pieces at that. We’ve got splendid runners and jumpers, and they haven’t any who are even passable. We can simply whitewash them.”
“But who cares about a little old track meet?”
“We can make them care,” declared Susanna. “We can talk the subject up and raise an excitement. We can make track meets seem as important as basket-ball games. Well, nearly as important,” amended Susanna compromisingly.
There was a discouraging lack of response, but this only irritated Susanna into greater enthusiasm. “Oh, please don’t be so fussy,” she begged. “It’s our only chance—our very last chance till next year, and paying them up then won’t be the same thing at all. It’s silly to say that people don’t care for track meets. At other colleges they care a lot.”