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Page 58
Grace managed to bat the ball as it descended in the direction of one of
her eager forwards who tried for the basket and just missed it. The
juniors made a desperate attempt to get the ball into their territory, but
the sophomores were too quick for them, and Nora made a brilliant throw to
goal that caused the sophomore fans to cheer with wild enthusiasm.
It was a game long to be remembered. Both teams fought with a
determination and spirit that caused their fans in the gallery to shout
themselves hoarse. The juniors made some plays little short of marvellous,
and five minutes before the last half was over the score stood 8 to 6 in
favor of the sophomores.
"This game will end in a tie if they're not careful," exclaimed Hippy.
"No, Nora has the ball! She'll score if anyone can! Put her home, Nora!"
he yelled excitedly.
Nora was about to make one of the lightning goal throws for which she was
noted, when like a flash Miriam Nesbit seized the ball from her, and
attempted to make the play herself. But her aim was inaccurate. The ball
flew wide of the basket and was seized by a junior guard. The tie seemed
inevitable.
A groan went up from the gallery. Then a distinct hiss was heard, and a
second later the entire sophomore class hissed Miriam Nesbit.
Miss Thompson rose, thinking to call the house to order, but sat down
again, shaking her head.
"They know what they are about," she said, for Grace herself did not know
the game any better than the principal. "It was inexcusable of Miriam,
inexcusable and intentional. In attempting to gratify her own vanity she
has prevented her side from scoring at a time when all personal desire
should be put aside. She really deserves it."
But the score was not tied after all, for the junior guard fumbled the
ball, dropped it and before she could regain possession of it, it was
speeding toward Marian Barber, thrown with unerring accuracy by Grace. Up
went Marian's hands. She grasped it, then hurled it with all her might,
straight into the basket. Five seconds later the whistle blew, with the
score 10 to 6.
The sophomores had won.
The enthusiastic fans of both classes rushed out of the gallery and down
the stairs to the gymnasium. Two tall sophomores seized Grace and making a
chair of their hands, carried her around the gymnasium, followed by the
rest of the class, sounding their class yell at the tops of their voices.
The story of Grace's imprisonment and escape out of the third story window
went from mouth to mouth, and her friends eagerly crowded the floor in an
effort to speak to her. There were High School yells and class yells until
Miss Thompson was obliged to cover her ears to deaden the noise.
Miss Thompson made her way through the crowd to where Grace was standing
in the midst of her admiring schoolmates. The principal took the young
captain in her arms, embracing her tenderly.
Surely no one had ever seen Miss Thompson display so much unrestrained and
candid emotion before. There were tears in her eyes, her voice trembled
when she spoke.
"It was a great victory, Grace, I congratulate you and your class. You
have fought a fine, courageous battle against great odds. Many another
girl who had climbed out of a third-story window, without even a rope to
hold by, would have little strength left to play basketball much less to
win the championship. I am very proud of you to-day, my dear," and she
kissed Grace right on the deep, red scratch that marred her cheek.
"She is a girl after my own heart," Miss Thompson was thinking, as she
hurried to her office. "Grace has faults, of course, but on the other
hand, she is as honest as the day, modest about her ability, unselfish and
with boundless courage. Certainly she is a splendid influence in a
school, and I wish I had more pupils like her."
It was with difficulty that Grace extricated herself from her admiring
friends and, accompanied by her chums, made for the locker room to don
street attire.
Now that it was all over the reaction had set in, and she began to feel a
little tired, although she was almost too happy for words. She walked
along, dimly alive to what the girls were saying.
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