“You make me tired!” returned Bobby, promptly. “Is that what you call loyalty to the school? If you’ve got another girl faster than I am, trot her out. I won’t stand in her light.”
“Nor will Eve interfere with any girl who can beat her in jumping, or put the shot farther,” declared Laura, quickly.
“Oh, yes! That’s all very pretty talk. But Mrs. Case is favoring you. She is favoring the whole junior class. We weren’t doing all the athletic stunts last year when we were juniors—no, indeed!”
“Well, whose fault is it if the junior class stands better in after-hour athletics than the senior?” demanded Bobby, laughing.
“And you pushed yourselves into the basketball team even before you were juniors,” declared the other girl, angrily.
“Come, now!” returned Laura, warmly. “That’s not fair at all. If any of you seniors had shown any desire to play the game to win, Mrs. Case would have put you on the first team—you know that. But your class, as a whole, would rather dance, and go to parties, and attend the theatre, and all that. You know very well that Mrs. Case has often called our attention to the fact that late hours takes the vitality out of us, and makes success in the gym. and on the field impossible.”
“Thanks for your lecture, Mother Witless!” snapped the other girl. “But I don’t care for it. And let me tell you that Lou Potter is going to make your soda-water champion look cheap.”
“Dear me!” exclaimed Bobby, as the older girl turned away. “Do you suppose we’ll be as high and mighty as all that when we get to be seniors, Laura?”
“I hope not—not even if we get to be patriarchs,” laughed Mother Wit. “But Miss Potter is making a good jump, just the same, Bobby. Eve isn’t going to have it all her own way.”
“Why, Eve’ll beat her easily,” declared Bobby, with confidence.