hour, she was to see him turn and face the
bleachers and rake them with his aghast and startled eyes until he found
her. She was on her feet, in her white jersey suit and her blue hat and
scarf--L. A.'s colors--waving to him, looking down at him with all her
gallant soul in her eyes. It seemed to her as if she must be saying it
aloud; as if she must be singing it:

_Play up! Play up! and--Play the Game!_

Then the bleachers and the players saw the Captain of the L. A. team
turn and wade briskly down the field to Gridley. They saw him hold out
his muddy hand; they heard his clear, "Peach of a kick!" They saw him
give the Northerner's hand a hearty shake; they saw him fling up his
head, and grin, and face the grandstand for a second, his eyes
seeking.... They saw him rally his men with a snapped-out order,--and
then they were on their feet, shouting, screaming, stamping, cheering:

KING! KING! KING!

The yell leaders couldn't get hold of them; there was no need. Every man
was his own yell leader. They yelled for Gridley and for Greenmount (why
worry, when Jimsy clearly wasn't worried?) and for their own team, man
by man, and the call of time for the first half failed to make the
faintest dent in their enthusiasm.

"But"--said Miss Bruce-Drummond, her mouth close to Honor's ear--"you
haven't won, have you?"

"Not yet!" Honor shouted. "Wait!" She began to sing with the rest:

_You can't beat L. A. High!_
_You can't beat L. A. High!_
_Use your team to get up steam,_
_But you can't beat L. A. High!_

It was gay, mocking, scatheless, inexorable. You _couldn't_ beat L. A.
High. Honor swayed and swung to it. Use your team and your tricks and
your dry-shod men to kick, but you couldn't beat L. A. High. And it
appeared, in fact, that you couldn't, for Jimsy King's team went into
the second half like happy young tigers, against men who were a little
tired, a little overconfident, and in the first ten minutes of play the
King Gink, mud-smeared beyond recognition, grinning, went over the line
for a touchdown, and nobody minded much Burke's missing the goal because
they had won anyway:

GREENMOUNT 4 L. A. HIGH 5

and the championship, the state championship, stayed south, and it
suddenly stopped raining and the sun came out gloriously after the
reckless manner of Southern California suns, and everything was for the
best in the best of all possible worlds.

Honor, sta