For despite the insistence of the League rules, and the advice and preachments of physical instructors, there was bound to be a spirit of rivalry in the games. How else would the interest be kept up? Playing for the sake of the game is all right; but the personal desire to win is, after all, what inspires any player to do his, or her, best.
There was no ugly playing, however; tense as was the interest, the opposing teams played fair and there was not an unpleasant word or look indulged in by a member of either. With Hester Grimes off the team from Central High there could be no complaint that they played too hard, or unfairly. The whistle in this first half sounded very seldom for fouls. And the game was played with a snap and vigor that was delightful.
Central High had somewhat the best of it from that very first goal. They won point after point. Half way through the first half Central High was three points in the lead. When there were five minutes still to go they made another clean goal, putting them up two more points.
But the Lumberport girls played well, too; they did not “go to pieces” because the visitors’ efforts were crowned with success. They fought steadily and made a goal during that last five minutes.
Then the girls of Central High got the ball and made a run with it down the field. Nellie seized it again and turned swiftly to throw. As she did so her ankle turned under her and she came down upon one knee with a little cry. The umpire was about to sound the whistle for time; but the doctor’s daughter sprang up instantly and threw the ball straight into the basket. As she did so the timekeeper sounded her whistle. The half was over.
Two of the girls ran to help Nellie, who stood, as Bobby said, “on one leg like a stork!” She hobbled to the dressing-room between them.
“Oh, dear me! who’ll we put in, Laura?” wailed Jess.
“You sha’n’t put in anybody,” cried Nellie, gritting her teeth to keep back a cry of pain as she set the injured foot to the floor again. “This will be all right in a moment.”
“Looks like it!” cried Dorothy.
“You’re knocked out, Miss,” said Dora. “You know you are.”