was quite an
accident, but I'm afraid it's done for us, all the same. We'll never
have time to score again now."

"Never mind. We'll make one last desperate effort before the whistle
goes," said Muriel encouragingly. "Look out for Alice's hit and try
and stop it if you possibly can, if it comes your way. It's our only
chance!"

Whack! Alice sent the ball flying out to her right wing with a mighty
"swipe," and a groan went up from the partisans of the Pink Dormitory.
That hit surely had done it! Nobody could be expected to get in the
way of such a terrific slog--Alice had excelled herself this time. The
ball would inevitably go flying out of bounds, and by the time it could
be recovered and thrown in again, the last three precious minutes would
have sped by. Already the referee had her whistle to her lips. Once
again the dormitory final would end in a draw!

But wait a moment! The Pink Dormitory's left outside, with a ribbon
favour flaunting gaily on her breast, was standing right in the way of
the coming ball. Gerry had watched Alice hitting it, and she knew that
her chance had come. If she could stop the ball just right and centre
it, there was just a chance that Muriel and Dorothy might be able to do
something with it.

But could she ever stop it? The ball was coming with all the force of
Alice Metcalfe's leather-bound hockey stick behind it. It needed some
courage to get in the way of one of Alice's slogs! Gerry wanted to
slip aside and let the ball go by. How badly she wanted to do it
nobody but herself could ever know. Surely it wouldn't be cowardice to
get out of the way of a ball like that! But her determination not to
let Muriel down this time was strong within her, and she fought down
the panic which urged her to step aside, and remained grimly waiting
the advent of that flying ball.

The next moment a great shout went up from the spectators, friends and
foes alike.

"Stopped! Oh, well stopped! Stopped, indeed!"

"My hat! That must have hurt! Did you see? It ran right up her stick
and caught her on the nose. Why--_if it isn't German Gerry_!" cried
Vera Davies in amazement.

It was an amazement which was shared by the rest of the school. The
girls were so dumbfounded that the cheer suddenly died down, and nobody
applauded at all when Gerry, recovering from the first stunning shock
of the blow, passed the ball to her inside wing, Dorothy Pemberton,
before the Green half-backs