The game was ended. The Bloss five had won by a score of 10-9.
V.
Judging by the expression on his face, Vernon Judd was about as elated over scoring the winning basket for the Bloss team as a criminal in court would be over receiving a stiff sentence.
“And that’s just what it amounts to,” he told himself, marching glumly off the playing court. “My sentence is that I be fired in disgrace from the factory, lose my six-month test to prove my right to a desk with Judd & Co., and sacrifice whatever chance I had of winning—her.”
Somebody slapped him on the shoulder. He looked up irritably, only to discover that it was his father.
“Why, dad,” he greeted, “what in the dickens are you doing out here?”
“In town on business,” explained Freeman Judd cryptically. “I heard there was a basket-ball game to-night, and I figured I could find you here. Quite a game, eh?”
Vern clenched his hands. “A bigger, more important one than you think, dad.” It was hard to go on and explain that his job at the factory hinged upon the outcome, but he managed it bravely.
His father heard him to the end, without interrupting. Once or twice he frowned a little, as if there were some worry on his mind, but he offered no comment. When the boy was quite done, he looked at him steadily.