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Page 55
It still lacked a few moments of the toss up; the whistle having been
blown sooner to hurry the dilatory sophomores, who seemed determined to
linger, unaccountably, in the little side room.
But in that brief time a remarkable change had taken place in the demeanor
of Miriam Nesbit Two brilliant spots burned on her checks, and her black
eyes flashed and glowed with happiness. The other girls were too downcast
and wretched to notice the transformation. They walked slowly into the
gymnasium and stood, ill at ease and downcast, at their end of the hall.
A wave of gossip had spread quickly over the audience, that sat waiting
with breathless interest for the appearance of the tardy sophomore.
What had happened? Had there been an accident?
No; it was all a mistake. There they were. And tremendous applause burst
forth, which died down almost as soon as it had begun. Where was Grace
Harlowe, the daring captain of the sophomore team, who had boasted that
her team would win the game if it took their last breath to do it?
There was a great craning of necks as the spectators looked in vain for
the missing Grace.
Hippy dropped his chin upon his breast disconsolately.
"I feel limp as a rag," he groaned. "Where, oh, where, is our gallant
captain? I'll never believe Grace deserted her post."
In the meantime poor Grace, locked in the upper classroom, had
concentrated all her thoughts and mental energies on a means of making her
escape in time. She sat down quietly, and, folding her hands, began to
consider the situation. In looking back long afterwards upon this tragic
hour, it seemed to her that it was the blackest moment of her life. The
walls were thick. The doors heavy and massive. The ceilings high. There
was no possibility of her cries being heard below. It is true she might
break a window, but what good would that do? She couldn't jump down three
stories into a stone court below. She went to the window and looked out.
"If I hung by this window sill," Grace said aloud, "I believe my feet
would just reach the cornice of the second-story window."
Seizing a heavy ruler from one of the desks, she ran to the window and
deliberately smashed out all the plate glass in the lower sash. Then,
hoisting herself onto the sill, she looked down from what seemed to be
rather a dizzy height. But nerve and determination will accomplish
anything, and Grace turned her eyes upward.
"I shall do it," she kept saying to herself over and over.
Clinging to the window sill, she gradually let herself down until her feet
touched the top of the cornice underneath. Then, steadying herself she
looked down. The cornice ledge was quite broad; broad enough to kneel on,
in fact. She was glad of this, for she had intended to kneel on it,
whatever its width.
With infinite caution, she gradually slipped along the ledge until she was
kneeling. Resting her elbows on the stone shelf, she lowered herself to
the next window sill. There she stood for a moment, looking in at the
empty classroom.
The door into the corridor stood open, and as she clung to the narrow
ledge, her face pressed against the window, she wondered how she was going
to get in.
"Unless I butt my head against this plate glass," she exclaimed, "I really
don't think I can make it. I can't kick in the glass, for fear of losing
my balance."
Suddenly she heard her name called.
"Grace! Grace! Where are you?"
First it was David's voice, and then Anne's, and then the two together,
echoing through the empty corridors and classrooms.
"I'm here," she answered. "Help! Help!"
Fortunately, they were passing the door at that instant and heard her
muffled cries.
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