Polly's First Year at Boarding School Part 39

"Long enough to leave no chance for us. Oh, Lo, they've made another basket!" And Betty wrung her hands in despair.

After a few minutes more of desperate struggling to keep the ball away from the other team, Miss Stuart blew the whistle, and the first half was over. The score was 5-0 in the Fenwick team's favor.

The school cheered half-heartedly, and under Connie's vigorous leadership, they sang to each member of the team in the vain hope of encouraging them. Polly was completely out of breath and Lois made her lie flat on her back and Betty forbid her talking.

After a doleful fifteen minutes the whistle blew again and the second half started. Up went the ball, and despite Polly's frantic efforts to stop it, it flew straight in the direction of the wrong goal. The fact that Madelaine and Mary knew the Fenwick signals helped considerably, for they managed to keep them from getting some baskets which they might otherwise have made. The ball seemed to be always at their end of the floor.

To the girls on the side lines it looked hopeless, when suddenly things began to happen. Alice fouled three times for roughness and was put out of the game.

"Thank goodness," Polly whispered as Betty took her place. "Don't forget the old signals."

Up went the ball again, but when it came down, it was in Polly's hands.

A cry went up from the school. Betty raised her arm and put up two fingers, and Polly threw her the ball, low, swift, and straight as a die. Betty bounced it to the line and threw high to Florence, who, as she afterwards declared, was dreaming, for the ball struck her full on the nose, and in a second her handkerchief was covered with blood.

Time was called and although Florence insisted that she would be all right in a minute, Miss King made her leave the floor. Louise called Lois to take her place.

"Now to show them some real playing," Betty exclaimed excitedly.

From the second the ball touched Polly's hands after the toss-up until, by a few swift pa.s.ses, Louise had thrown it in the basket, the Fenwick team never had a chance at it. It sped like lightning from Polly to Betty, to Lois, to Louise. Seddon Hall had never seen such pa.s.sing, and the girls showed their appreciation by prolonged cheers.

Time after time they repeated the same thing. Without doubt they had found themselves, and the Fenwick team seemed powerless to stop them.

"Yi! That's the way to do it!" shouted Betty as Louise made her fifth basket and the Fenwick captain asked to put in a subst.i.tute for center.

But subst.i.tutes were of no avail; nothing could stop the Seddon Hall team. Once in a while the ball would trickle towards one of the Fenwick forwards, only to be batted back by Mary or Madelaine into Polly's or Betty's waiting hands. Once there, it was but a few swift pa.s.ses, and Louise would throw it triumphantly into the basket.

Not one goal could the other team make after the first half, and when at last the game ended, the score was 9-5 in Seddon Hall's favor.

When the final whistle blew there was a mad rush, and the girls on the team were hoisted high on the shoulders of the delighted school. Some one threw the big green and white banner around Louise and put the rather frightened mascot into her arms, and singing and cheering wildly, they carried her to the other end of the gym before the table whereon the silver cup had been placed.

Polly, Lois and Betty escaped as soon as the excited girls would let them, and jumping out of their gym suits they met, a few minutes later, in Roman Alley.

"Oh, but that was a game!" gloated Betty. "Why did it ever end!"

"I nearly died of joy when you came in," Polly exclaimed. "And when Lo took Florence's place, well-" But Polly could find no words to express her feelings.

"I'll bet those Fenwick girls had the surprise of their lives. I heard Nora Peters rubbing it in to her friend that wrote her that letter. And as for mascots, wasn't their cat stupid when compared to our darling?"

Lois demanded gleefully.

"Oh, there you are!" called Louise's voice from the top of the stairs.

"Make room for us," she added as she came down, followed by Mary and Madelaine.

"We were just talking about the game, naturally," explained Lois. "You certainly can make baskets, O mighty Captain," she added, bowing low before Louise.

"I?" questioned Louise. "You know very well I had nothing to do with the game. You three saved the day; how am I going to thank you?"

"It was certainly a relief when you came in," sighed Madelaine. "Mary and I were almost all in."

"I'd given the game up for lost," Louise continued, putting her arm around Polly and Lois and smiling gratefully at Betty, "until you started those wonderful pa.s.ses. You must have done an awful amount of practicing that I didn't dream of," she added.

The three girls looked at one another and grinned foolishly, and Betty said:

"Certainly not!'

"Wasn't that a wonderful catch Mary made?" asked Lois.

"Yes; but did you see the high one Florence stopped?"

"Poor old Florence; how's her nose?"

"That Fenwick center almost killed me."

And a thousand other questions were asked and answered, and to the splash, splash of the water as it ran in their tubs, the victorious team played the game over again in words.

CHAPTER XX

THE MUSICAL

It was the morning of the musical and the day before Commencement.

Lessons were over for the year, and all the girls were in a high state of holiday excitement.

Connie's name was on the program twice, the first time for a two piano piece with Nora Peters, and the second for a very difficult sonata by herself. The professor had promised that if she were encored, she might play one of her own compositions. So Connie, full of thrills, practiced night and day.

Angela, left to herself, joined forces with Betty and together with Polly and Lois they were always at the service of the Senior cla.s.s. They were kept pretty busy, running errands and doing the dozen and one things that were to be done before the musical.

Just now they were sitting on the floor of the a.s.sembly room platform, waiting for orders. The Seniors had their hands full with the decorations and were transforming the dignified old room into a bower of greens and dogwood.

Madelaine Ames approached Louise with a very worried expression on her usually smiling face.

"We haven't half enough branches," she complained. "We need loads more dogwood. Can't Polly and Lois get some for us?"

"Hush!" cautioned Louise, for they were within ear-shot of the four girls. "Don't you realize that their hands mustn't be all scratched up?

Ask Bet and Angela."

Madelaine crossed the platform to where the four sat in mystified silence, for they had overheard every word of the conversation between the two older girls.

"Betty," she called, "will you and Angela get us some more big branches of dogwood or apple blossoms? Those stupid Sofs brought in only little twigs. Take one of the stable boys with you to do the heavy work for you. You know about the size we want."

"Of course we will," answered Betty, "and we'll bring you the trees back if you want them," she called as they disappeared. On their way to the stables Angela said:

"I'd like to know what Lo and Poll are having their hands saved for."

As she said it, Polly and Lois, still on the platform, were wondering the same thing.

"Can't we do something for you?" Lois asked presently, trying to look unconscious.