ntal member had put
it, and if the columns of the Hillsboro Gazette were to be trusted,
that was gone, too. But in the big game on this occasion they hoped
to retrieve their fallen fortunes.

Everybody felt that the real business of the day had begun when the
two lacrosse teams drew up on the field. The women had finished their
clearing up after dinner, and piled rhubarb leaves on their baskets
to keep the eatables cool for supper.

Bud Perkins and Teddy Watson were playing for Millford, and Mrs.
Perkins, Mrs. Watson, and Aunt Kate were in a pleasurable state of
excitement, though they told the other women over and over that
lacrosse was a dangerous game, and they did not want the boys to
play. Mrs. Breen, too, whose son Billy was Millford's trusty forward,
experienced a thrill of motherly pride when she heard the crowd
breaking into cheers as the Millford boys in their orange and black
jerseys lined up on the field.

Pearl had gathered up her four brothers after dinner and washed them
clean at the river, also made repairs on their drooping stockings and
twisted collars, and, holding tight to Danny, marshalled them across
the end of the field to where Arthur and Martha sat with Jim and
Camilla, and Tom Motherwell and Nellie Slater.

Dr. Clay came driving around the end of the field. When he saw Pearl
he stopped and asked her if she would come and sit in his buggy to
watch the game.

"I can't leave the boys, thank you, doctor," she said; "there's been
three of them lost since noon, and they've all got their good clothes
on."

"Well, of course, we'll have to keep track of them, in that case," he
said, smiling, "because it would be a real loss to lose them, clothes
and all. I tell you what we'll do, Pearl. I'll give you the horse and
buggy--pile them all in, and it will be the easiest way of minding
them."

The doctor drove to a clear space where the boys would have a good
view of the game, and then went away to get a bag of peanuts for
them.

In the centre of the field the referee placed the ball between Bud
Perkins's stick and McLaren's, of Hillsboro. There was a moment of
intense excitement and then away went the ball toward Hillsboro's
goal, half a dozen in pursuit. The whole field was alive with black
and orange, blue and white, legs and arms and sticks darting in and
out in a way that would make your eyes ache to follow them. Once the
ball came to the side, causing a receding wave of fluttering muslin.
M