There was a moment of intense silence; then Queenie’s better nature took possession of her, and she rose to her feet bravely.
“I want to apologize to the captain for my own and my patrol’s behaviour on the hike!” she blurted out. “And I’d like to have this go in the minutes.”
“Your apology is accepted,” replied Marjorie, in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Now,” she continued, “we shall proceed to new business. I have been to the scout headquarters this week, and have learned that there is a small basket-ball league in the city organization—small because only second-class scouts are eligible to enter. There are already four teams in the league—which begins its schedule in December. A cup is offered to the winning team. I should like to know how my troop would like to qualify.”
“Basket-ball!” exclaimed Queenie. “Oh, boy!”
“But we ain’t players,” objected Gertie.
“You could learn the game,” explained Marjorie. “There is a splendid floor here, and I could play with you—and Miss Andrews, too. Officers aren’t barred out, unless they’re professionals.”
Marjorie had noted the stir of interest on the girls’ faces and knew that she had hit at least one cherished dream among her members. The girls all read the sporting pages of the papers, and talked athletics with the boys. Besides, they knew that it was no child’s game.
“Could you play and coach both?” asked Queenie.
“No, not very well. I’d rather have a man to coach. If you are willing, I think my brother would do it.”