He looked very grave when Anne whispered the news to him. The place was packed with impatient spectators. The junior team was already standing on the floor talking in low voices as they waited impatiently for their opponents to appear at the opposite end.
"She must be somewhere in the building," David ejaculated. "That is if she has on her gymnasium suit. Have you looked upstairs yet?"
"No," replied Anne, "but we have been all through the downstairs' rooms."
As they ran up the steps they heard the shrill whistle that summoned the players to their positions.
"Come on," cried Nora. "Miriam, you will have to take Grace's place, and Eva Allen will substitute for you."
It still lacked a few moments of the toss up; the whistle having been blown sooner to hurry the dilatory sophomores, who seemed determined to linger, unaccountably, in the little side room.
But in that brief time a remarkable change had taken place in the demeanor of Miriam Nesbit. Two brilliant spots burned on her cheeks, and her black eyes flashed and glowed with happiness. The other girls were too downcast and wretched to notice the transformation. They walked slowly into the gymnasium and stood, ill at ease and downcast, at their end of the hall.
A wave of gossip had spread quickly over the audience, that sat waiting with breathless interest for the appearance of the tardy sophomore.
What had happened? Had there been an accident?
No; it was all a mistake. There they were. And tremendous applause burst forth, which died down almost as soon as it had begun. Where was Grace Harlowe, the daring captain of the sophomore team, who had boasted that her team would win the game if it took their last breath to do it?