e teams had
reached the safety of their dressing room. "I won't stand it. My ankle
hurts so where some one kicked it that I thought I couldn't finish the
first half. And poor Harriet! You must have taken an awful fall."

"I did." Harriet Delaney was half crying.

Muriel Harding's dark eyes were snapping with rage and injury. She was
nursing a scraped elbow, which she had received in the melee. "I'm going
straight to Miss Archer," she threatened. "I won't play the second half
with such dishonorable girls. That Miss Dutton, the referee, must know
something of the rough way they are playing. But _she_ is a friend of
Mignon's. I don't care much if Miss Archer forbids basket ball for the
rest of the season. I'd rather have it that way than be carried off the
floor, a wreck. I'm going now to find her. She's up in her office. Jerry
saw her just before she came to the gym. Didn't you, Jerry?" She turned
to the stout girl, who had just entered. At the beginning of the game,
Jerry, Constance and Irma had hurried to the gallery to watch it.
Seasoned fans, they had observed the playing with critical eyes that saw
much. The instant the first half was over, they had descended to their
friends with precipitate haste.

"Yes, she's in her office." Jerry had appeared in time to hear Muriel's
tirade. "I think I _would_ go to her, if I were you, Muriel. Those girls
are a disgrace to Sanford."

"Let's all go," proposed Harriet Delaney, wrathfully. "I'd rather do
that than stay and be murdered."

Marjorie stood regarding her players with brooding eyes. She smiled
faintly at Harriet's vehement utterance. "Girls," she said in a clear,
resolute voice, "I told you this morning that if anything like this
happened I'd go straight to Mignon and have an understanding. I'm going.
I wish you to go with me, though. I have a reason for it." She walked
determinedly to the door.

"What are you going to say to them, Marjorie?" demanded Muriel. "You
might as well save your breath. They'll only laugh at you. Miss Archer
is the person to go to."

"Not yet." Marjorie shook her head in gentle contradiction. "Please let
me try my way, Muriel. If it doesn't work, then I promise you that I'll
go with you to Miss Archer. Oh, yes. I wish you all to stand by me, but
don't say a word unless I ask you to. Will you trust me?" She glanced
wistfully at her little flock.

"Go ahead," ordered Muriel shortly. "We'll stand by you. Won't we,
girls?"

Three heads no