Dressed at last, their paraphernalia carefully stowed away, the team trooped from the gymnasium and on to their locker room. “I wish I had worn my fur coat,” lamented Muriel. “I’ll surely freeze in my tracks. Are you ready, girls? Do hurry. I am anxious to face the wind and get it over with. I think I’ll take the car home.”
“Ugh!” shuddered Susan. Issuing from the high school building a blast of piercing air struck her full in the face. “We’ll be blown away before we get down the steps.”
“Oh, come along, Susie,” urged Muriel laughingly. “Don’t mind a little thing like that. Look at me. Here goes.” Muriel valiantly essayed the first icy step. A fresh gust of wind assailing her, the hand holding her muff sought her face to protect it.
How it happened no one quite knew. A concerted scream went up from four throats as Muriel suddenly left her feet to go bumping and sliding down the long flight of ice-bound steps. She struck the walk in a heap and lay still.
“Muriel!” Forgetting the peril of the steps, Marjorie took them heedlessly, but safely. A faint moan issued from Muriel’s lips as she knelt beside her. Muriel moaned again, but tried to raise herself to a sitting posture. She fell back with a fresh groan.
“Where are you hurt?” Marjorie slipped a supporting arm under her. By this time the others had safely made the descent and were gathered about the two.
“It’s my right shoulder and arm. I’m afraid my arm is broken,” gasped Muriel, her face white with pain.
“Let me see.” Marjorie tenderly felt of the injured member. “Do I hurt you much?” she quavered solicitously.
“Not—much. I guess it’s—not—broken. It’s my shoulder that hurts most.”
Several persons had now gathered to the scene. A man driving past in an automobile halted his car. Leaping from the machine he ran to the scene. “Someone hurt?” was his crisp question. “Can I be of service?”