party.

"Jerry looks awfully cross," returned Constance, scanning the opposite
side of the gallery where Jerry was singing lustily, her straight, heavy
brows drawn together in a savage scowl.

"There goes the whistle!" Marjorie leaned eagerly forward to see the
freshman team come in from the side room which they were using. Her
alert eyes noted that Muriel looked sulky, Mignon stormy, Susan Atwell
belligerent, Harriet Delaney offended, and that Helen Thornton, the
substitute who had replaced her, had been crying.

Marjorie felt a thrill of pity for the unfortunate substitute. It looked
as though she had spent an unhappy quarter of an hour in the little side
room.

The teams changed sides and hastened to their places. Again Mignon and
Ellen faced each other. Then the whistle shrilled and the second half of
the game was on.

From the beginning of the second half it looked as though the freshmen
might retrieve their early losses. They worked with might and main and
made no false moves. Slowly their score climbed to six. So far the
sophomores had gained nothing. Then Ellen Seymour made a spectacular
throw to the basket and brought her team up two points. With the
realization that they were facing defeat the freshmen rallied and made a
desperate effort to hold their own, bringing their count up to eight.

Two more points were gained and the score was tied, but the time was
growing short. Helen Thornton had the ball and was plainly trying to
elude the tantalizing sophomore who barred her way. She made a clumsy
feint of throwing the ball. It slipped from her fingers and rolled along
the floor. There was a mad scramble for it. Mignon and Ellen Seymour
leaped forward simultaneously.

The crowd in the gallery was aroused to the height of excitement.
Marjorie, breathless, leaned far over the gallery rail. She knew every
detail of the dear old game. She saw Mignon's and Ellen's heads close
together as they sprang; then she saw Mignon give a sly, vicious side
lunge which threw Ellen almost off her feet. In the instant it took
Ellen to recover herself the French girl had seized the ball and was off
with it. Eluding her pursuers, she balanced herself on her toes, and
threw her prize toward the freshman basket. But it never reached there.
A long blue figure shot straight up into the air. Elizabeth Corey, a
girl whose sensational plays had made her a lion during her freshman
year, had intercepted the flying ball. She sent it sp