"Why, the idea!" An angry flush overspread Joan's face. To be treated to a dose of her own medicine did not set well.
Just then Leslie Cairns joined them and Joan forgot her outraged feelings.
"Come along," ordered Leslie. "Get your togs changed in a hurry. I am going to blow you three girls to eats at the Ivy. Beat it out of the dressing room without saying where you're going. I want to talk to you three and I am not strong for entertaining the gang. You did better than I thought you would. What was Leonard haranguing you about?"
"He raked us down for being out of practice. Said he would coach us if we'd come regularly to the gym." Natalie made a contemptuous gesture.
"Tell him to fly away," shrugged Leslie. "You don't need his coaching. I have a better plan. Let's be moving."
The quartette walked away without a word of farewell to Ruth Hale, who had been standing near them. She was also beneath their notice.
"You had a lot to say about our punk playing before the try-out, Les. What do you think of Lola? She certainly didn't distinguish herself." Natalie could not conceal her satisfaction at Lola's failure.
"Don't mention it." Leslie's heavy brows met. "I was sore enough at the little dummy to shake her. She let the other five put it all over her. I haven't seen her since she flivvered and I don't want to."
"She never could play basket ball," was Natalie's lofty assertion.
"She didn't show any signs of it yesterday," Leslie grimly agreed. "I'll meet you girls at the garage," she directed with a brusque change of subject. "I am going over there for my car. It's good way to lose the gang. They won't look for us there."