"Really, Miss Harlowe, it's so kind of you to look at it in that light.
However, anyone with common sense would have known without being told that
I never intended that ball for the juniors."

"I am not so sure of that," muttered Nora, who, seeing the hurt look that
crept into Grace's eyes at Miriam's words, immediately rose in behalf of
her captain.

Miriam whirled on Nora.

"What did you say?" asked Miriam angrily.

Before Nora could answer the whistle blew. Intermission was over and the
second half was on. The teams changed baskets and stood in readiness for
work. Once more Grace and Julia Crosby faced each other. There was a
malicious gleam in Julia's eye and a look of determination in Grace's.
With a spring, Grace caught the ball as it descended and threw it to Nora,
who, eluding her guard, tossed it to Miriam. With unerring aim Miriam sent
the ball into the basket and the sophomores scored for the first time.

Their friends in the gallery applauded vigorously and began to take heart,
but their joy was short-lived, for as the play proceeded the sophomores
steadily lost what little ground they had gained. Try as they might, they
could make no headway. Grace called for play after play, only to find that
in some inexplicable way the enemy seemed to know just what she meant, and
acted accordingly.

The game neared its close and the sophomores fought with the desperation
of the doomed. They knew that they could not win save by a miracle, but
they resolved to die hard. The ball was in Miriam's hands and she made a
feint at throwing it to Nora, but whirled and threw it to Grace, who,
divining her intention, ran forward to receive it. There was a rush on the
part of the juniors. Julia Crosby, crossing in front of Grace, managed
slyly to thrust one foot forward. Grace tripped and fell to the floor,
twisting one leg under her. The ball rolled on, and was caught by the
enemy, who threw it to goal just as the whistle sounded for the last time.
The juniors had won. The score stood 17 to 2 in their favor. The scorer
attempted to announce it, but her voice was lost in the noisy yells of the
junior class in the gallery.

The fact that Grace Harlowe still sat on the gymnasium floor passed for a
moment unnoticed. In the final grand rush for the ball, the other players
failed to see that their valiant captain still occupied the spot where she
fell. Tumbles were not infrequent, and Grace was well able to take care of
herself.