Polly looked.

"Bother," she said, "I suppose that means good-bye to our dance."

They parted without hesitation. Lois went over to Ethel and Polly to Marjorie, and as they danced, they listened patiently to a tale of woe, and tried their best to cheer up their self-enforced partners.

After the sixth dance the ice cream and cake and lemonade were served, and for the rest of the evening everything went beautifully. The "good-night bell" rang at ten o'clock, just in the middle of the Virginia reel, but Mrs. Baird, who was on the platform, beckoned to one of the Seniors and gave her permission for it to be finished. When the girls finally did go off to bed, they were all very sleepy and very happy.

As Polly and Lois were leaving the room, Mrs. Baird stopped them.

"Good-night, girls," she said, "you have been a big help to the Seniors, but they have no doubt thanked you for that. I want to tell you that I saw and appreciated your kindness tonight. I am proud of it in you as an old girl," she said to Lois, and then turning to Polly with one of her wonderful smiles that made all the girls adore her, she added:

"And I am more proud to find that same spirit in a new girl."

When Lois and Polly said good-night a few minutes later, Polly whispered:

"Isn't she wonderful?"

"Of course she is," Lois answered, smiling. "I wondered how long it would be before you found it out."

CHAPTER IV

THE CHOOSING OF THE TEAMS

"Polly, there's no use talking, you must learn to play basket-ball."

Lois had delivered this command a couple of days after the paper chase and Polly had therefore spent hours in the gym during the month which elapsed between then and the opening of this chapter.

It was now the first of November. There had already been one or two really cold days, and every one had settled down to the routine of school life. The strangeness had worn off for the new girls, so that they had forgotten they were new.

The chief sport at Seddon Hall was basket-ball. On the first of November every year six girls, from the Junior and Senior cla.s.ses, were chosen for the big team.

Three days later six subst.i.tutes were elected. These twelve girls were the pick of the school, and twice a year they played against an outside team.

Although any girl from any of the four upper cla.s.ses might be chosen as "subs," the team had hitherto been composed of Juniors and Seniors, with an occasional Soph.o.m.ore. The captain of the big team was elected early in the term and was always from the Senior cla.s.s.

Owing to the rather stiff exams of the year before, only eight of the fourteen Juniors had made the Senior cla.s.s. Those left had not all returned and, counting specials, the Juniors had only eleven girls this year. Fully a third of them were determined to work and had no time for athletics.

There were plenty of Soph.o.m.ores, fifteen in all, but they were a queer lot. There is always a miscellaneous cla.s.s and this year it was the "sofs," who had been dubbed "the impossibles."

It had been rumored that on account of the scarcity of girls it was just possible that the team might have to come down to the Freshman cla.s.s for subst.i.tutes, and great was the excitement.

Betty, Polly, and Lois were discussing this unheard-of possibility on their return from practice.

"Of course it is just possible, but-" began Betty.

"No, it's too good to be true," sighed Lois. "Don't let's think about it. But I say those 'sofs' are terrible. Well, I'm going to dress; so long!" And she disappeared into her room.

"Betty, has a Freshman ever been on the sub team before?" Polly inquired.

"Never in my time," answered Betty. "But, then, never, no, never was there such a set of impossibles as the 'sofs,' nor was there ever such a bully center to be found in the Freshman cla.s.s." This with a meaning glance at Polly, who had managed to get the ball after the toss-up a remarkable number of times that day.

"Bet, you're crazy; why, I'm only a new girl. Lois would be first choice and you second."

"You may be a new girl, but don't forget the paper chase," said Betty.

"But you're right about Lo; she is wonderful. She's all over the place at once and she keeps her head. But as for me-no, I haven't a chance."

"Why, Betty, you're splendid at making baskets."

"What good does that do me when I can't keep inside those darn lines?

No, it's Lo or you; the rest of us haven't a chance."

"Chance for what?" inquired Lois, poking her head out of her room. "Are you two still gabbing? You'll both be late for study hour." And giving each girl a violent push, she brought an end to the conversation.

The choosing of the big team on Tuesday was just about what every one had expected. There were four Seniors and two Juniors; most of them had been subst.i.tutes the year before. Louise Preston had already been elected captain.

The list of names had been posted Wednesday morning and the girls had come in for their share of congratulations, but every one felt that the real excitement would come on Friday.

Wednesday, as soon as Miss Hale dismissed them (the Freshmen had Latin the last period, and the Spartan had the most aggravating way of not hearing the bell), Lois, Polly and Betty dashed for the gym.

As they entered, Miss Stuart, the gym teacher, called to them:

"Seven and you three girls make ten. We need two more for a game. Some one go and get Angela and Connie; tell them I think they need some exercise."

Miss Stuart was a large, handsome woman, with a firm but good-natured face. She was renowned for her fairness, and no one had ever even criticized one of her decisions. She had no favorites, and the girls all liked her tremendously.

In a few minutes Betty, who had gone off to search for Angela and Connie, came back, dragging them each by an arm.

"Here they are," she called. "What'll I do with them?"

"Better superintend their getting into their gym suits," answered Miss Stuart, "and make them hurry."

Ten minutes later she blew the whistle and tossed up the ball.

It was a good game. Polly was playing jumping center against Mary Reed, a big heavy girl, slow in her movements, but hard to budge. Connie was playing second center with Polly, and as she was no earthly help, Polly had to bounce the ball to the line and throw it to Betty, who was playing forward. Poor Betty was breaking her record for fouls.

Lois, guarding at the other end, was playing like a little fury. She had to work, for Harriet Ames was so long and lanky that she managed to pick the ball out of the air above her head, unless frantic efforts were used to stop her.

Every one was so busy with the game that the arrival of Louise Preston and two or three members of the big team pa.s.sed unnoticed. They had slipped in after the game had commenced and were watching each play very carefully.

After the game the three girls met, as usual, in Roman Alley, as the water was running for their cold tubs.

"Hum, I don't call that much of a score-fourteen to four." And Polly sank down on the steps in disgust.

"That's because you were not trying to guard a giraffe with four arms,"