"Polly, what is it?" gasped both women, hurrying to her side.

"The Bridge of Sighs is on fire-no one answered the bell-I had to come-don't tell the girls!" And Polly, her message delivered, fainted dead away in Miss King's arms and was carried back unconscious to the infirmary.

The fire was soon under control. Mrs. Baird called the stablemen, and together with the fire extinguishers it was over almost at once. It had started by two wires crossing and, fortunately, on the bridge. It might easily have spread to both buildings had it not been for Polly's timely warning. So quietly and quickly had it happened that the girls in the gym knew nothing of it.

When Polly next opened her eyes, Mrs. Baird and Miss King were standing on either side of her bed.

"Is it out?" she asked, turning to Mrs. Baird.

"Yes, dear, it is; thanks to you and your splendid courage," Mrs. Baird replied, taking her hand in hers and patting it.

"And the game?" demanded Polly, now thoroughly conscious. "Is it over?"

A prolonged shout from the gym answered her question.

"It must be just over," explained Miss King, "and that shout sounds as if we had won. How is the ankle, dear? Very painful?"

"Yes, it is kind of sore," Polly admitted, "but I want to know the score," she insisted.

Mrs. Baird gave her hand a tight squeeze and smiled down at her as she answered:

"I'll go this minute and find out; they are probably waiting for me to present the cup. I will send you the score at once," she promised as she left the room.

Seddon Hall had made a hard fight and when the time was up the score on the board was 10 to 8 in their favor. Betty had surprised everybody by her good work. She had not given the other center a chance at the ball and she had made only one foul. Perhaps the thought of Polly waiting anxiously in the infirmary for news of the game had spurred her on.

Before the game started she had said to Lois:

"I may be in a blue funk, but won this game shall be, if I have anything to say about it. Polly shan't be disappointed."

And Betty had kept her word. She had managed the pa.s.ses so well that Louise, who at the beginning of the game had been in a fever of apprehension, had almost wept with joy.

As Mrs. Baird entered they were cheering the losing team. With a few well-chosen words of congratulations, she presented the cup to Louise Preston, and finished with a brief account of the fire and the part Polly had played in it.

Useless to try to describe the girls' enthusiasm; they cheered and cheered. Mrs. Baird dispatched Lois and Betty to tell Polly the score, and the rest of the girls stood under the infirmary window and sang to her until their throats were hoa.r.s.e.

Betty and Lois, still in their gym suits, sat on the end of her bed and told her all about the game.

"Betty, darling, if you were not so hot and dirty I think I could eat you," Polly exclaimed. "Think of your making only one little foul. Oh, but I'm proud of you!"

"Well, you see, you told Louise to put me on the team in your place,"

Betty explained, "and I had to make good."

Polly turned to Lois:

"I am awfully sorry you didn't get a chance to play," she said.

"I'm kind of glad," Lois replied. "Now, perhaps, we will both play on Field Day."

"Here, here, what are you daring to suggest?" demanded Louise Preston from the doorway. She was followed by the rest of the team. They had waited to see the Whitehead girls off and then changed from their gym suits before coming to see the heroine of the day.

"Oh, I was only hoping a couple of you big team girls would give us subs a chance on Field Day. You are dreadfully selfish, you know," Lois replied.

Polly smiled happily at her captain.

"Well, you did win the game without me, Louise, didn't you?" she asked.

"How do you make that out?" Florence Guile demanded. "I think you had a pretty big hand in it. If you hadn't been so plucky and kept so still about the fire, we'd have all been frightened to death and the game never would have been even finished."

"Florence is right," agreed everybody. "Three long cheers for plucky Polly!"

"To the victor belongs the spoils," laughed Louise. When the girls had stopped cheering: "Here's the cup. I brought it up to show you, and you may keep it as long as you like."

Polly took it reverently in her hands and looked at it for a long time.

Finally she said:

"What a funny day it's been. Please don't any one talk any more about the fire. I'm sick of it, and besides it was the game that counted."

Then as she caught sight of Angela among the crowd of girls at the door she said:

"Come here, Angela. I have something to tell you, you must apologize to your slippers; they have atoned for their crime; they carried me safely all the way to the gym."

Miss King appeared at the door as the girls were laughing at Polly's remark.

"Is this a reception by any chance?" she inquired. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but you'll all have to leave. Polly's supper is on its way from the kitchen and I'm sure she doesn't want an audience while she is eating it."

The girls left after more congratulations and promises to come back the first thing next day, and Polly was left alone to gaze happily at the big silver loving cup which, in a measure, she had helped win for Seddon Hall.

CHAPTER XIII

BETTY'S IDEA

The long days in the infirmary dragged by and lengthened into weeks. One so closely resembled the other that Polly lost track of all time. Uncle Roddy sent boxes containing everything that his generous mind could think of, to amuse the invalid, and the girls did their best to make the days fly.

At last the time came when, with the aid of a crutch and Miss King, Polly managed to hobble down the steps and out into the sunshine. It was only a matter of a couple of weeks after that, that she discarded the crutch, and on a never-to-be-forgotten day made her appearance, a little worn and shaky still, at the beginning of the Literature cla.s.s. No one expected her, and her welcome was all that she could have dreamed of.

In the meantime the snow had melted, to be replaced by slush and, as March ended, by mud. Polly slipped back easily into her accustomed place. Easter vacation, spent at Atlantic City with Uncle Roddy, came and went, so that when this chapter opens, spring was fully established and Seddon Hall was a ma.s.s of dogwood and violets.

Today was the day of the Faculty tea, to be given by the Seniors, and Polly, Lois, and Betty were helping them make the sandwiches and fruit punch.

"Wah, but I'm hot and tired!" sighed Lois, holding a thin slice of bread in one hand and a knife smeared with mayonnaise dressing in the other.

"You're lazy, you mean," replied Betty. "Try squeezing a few of these lemons if you want a sample of real work; they're as hard as rocks."

Polly looked up, flushed from her task.

"I've an idea," she exclaimed. "Look! Put the lemon on the floor and roll it gently with your toe. See how soft it gets!" she continued as she cut the rolled lemon in half and squeezed out the juice.