But she was no more fortunate the second time than the first, and the ball took the same course down the floor. Its progress, however, was halted this time by Sophia; with almost a superhuman effort she jumped high into the air and intercepted the pass before the forward could secure the ball. Instantly both Marjorie and Dot got free; Sophia chose Dot as her recipient, the latter sent the ball straight into Stella’s hands.
“Now for a goal!” thought Marjorie, her heart beating wildly. “Oh, if it only does go in——”
But Stella’s shot missed its mark; Goldie obtained possession of the ball, and tried also in vain; then the guards asserted themselves, and took it away. With lightning rapidity, it passed down the floor to the opponent’s basket.
Marjorie felt her knees actually shaking; there seemed to be no doubt that the other team was superior, that they were going to beat them by a big score. It was maddening to have to stand still and watch her guards do all the work, but for several minutes the ball neither came over the line nor went into the basket. Sophia and Stella were certainly fighting courageously.
At last, however, the ball whizzed back to Dot, and passed on to the other end of the floor, once again giving Goldie and Annie a chance to shoot. But they found it no easy task. Without overguarding a sixteenth of an inch, their opponents seemed able to prevent their making a clear shot; finally Annie made use of her height, and aimed for a one-point shot. The ball fell through the basket; the wild cheering that followed seemed to tell them that now they were started, and nothing should prevent their going on to victory.
The rest of her team resumed their positions with an unconscious air of confidence, but Marjorie herself returned to her circle with the same apprehension in her heart. They had scored, to be sure, but the other team was ahead; worst of all, she had not yet outwitted her opponent in the toss-up. As long as she failed at the jump, her own team would be at an enormous disadvantage.
She made another valiant attempt, but failed again; her own team, remembering their coach’s instructions, seemed suddenly, one and all, to throw themselves into a defensive game. For seven minutes they held their opponents without a single point being scored. Then, just before the conclusion of the first half, one of the forwards made a one-point shot. The whistle blew, leaving the score at 3–1, in Troop One Sixty-one’s favor.
Marjorie’s whole team hurried immediately over to Jack, who was sitting in a corner of the gymnasium. What, they all demanded in confusion, must they do to conquer their opponents?
Jack looked from one to the other in silence, waiting for them to calm down before he answered.
“Every girl is playing her position splendidly,” he said slowly, “with the exception of the jumping-center.”