The play was roughing up a good deal and presently a double foul was called. Yardley failed at her attempt and Broadwood succeeded, and again the score changed.
“Come on, now!” called Tom. “Stop that fouling and get busy!”
In response Yardley worked through the Broadwood defense by pretty team work and scored again, but that was the last basket of the period and the twenty minutes ended with the figures on the board 8 to 4 in favor of the home team.
During the ten minutes intermission Yardley amused herself singing songs, while from the floor at intervals came faintly the sound of Broadwood’s cheers.
“Well, that’s a good margin to begin the next half on,” said Alf contentedly. “But it doesn’t look to me that Tom’s aggregation of world beaters is quite up to form. What do you think, Dan?”
“They’re slow. Tom’s been driving them all the way. We haven’t got this old game yet, Alf.”
“Oh, we’ll have it all right. Here they come.”
Broadwood had made two changes in her team and the changes worked for the better. The new men were lighter in weight but far speedier, and, moreover, they were fresh and untired. From the start of the last half the Blue began to overhaul her rival. The 4 changed to a 6, and then to an 8, and the score was tied. Over the edge of the balcony hung a fringe of shouting, gesticulating red-faced youths. A foul was called on Broadwood and Yardley led by one point. Then followed a long and desperate throw by a Yardley forward which in some miraculous way got through the basket.
“That’s the stuff, fellows!” shouted Tom, racing back to his position and fighting off his too-affectionate opponent. “We’ve got them on the run now! Play it up!”