CHAPTER XIX—TEAMS AND TEAMSTERS

“But we must attend to our practice, Judith, this very afternoon I have called for a full team. We are to meet the girls of Breslin, and no personal worries must be allowed to interfere with the duties of our team. You know, Judy dear, no one is more anxious than I to have dear little Helen’s tangle straightened out, and I am going to it with all the wild and wooley in my make-up,” Jane almost smiled, but there was a qualified twist at her mouth corners, and such an effect had often been called an ingrowing smile, id est: A smile fraught with fury.

“Oh, all right, Janey!” assented Judith. “I, like you, dear, am anxious to vanquish both foes, to wit: Breslin and Marian, but I am not so keen for practice. Janey, do you think I could work up a little water on the knee, or housemaid’s ankle, or something like that, just for this afternoon? I have the prospect of the loveliest hike—out to Blighty our poney England, you know. I would love to go, but, of course, if I must make baskets for the sophs——”

“You really must, Judith. I will take no excuse positively. Besides, Judy dear, we are to have an audience this afternoon, and do you think I will stand for our team being minus our tall, striking, beautiful Junoesque——”

“Perfect thirty-six! Halt! All right, Jane. I shall be on hand. Consider the bid accepted,” and Judith flounced out in mock pomp, her limited skirt confines yanked out, in comic imitation of the sweeping court costume.

Basketball fever had set in with epidemic proportions. Every minute in the day available, or capable of being snatched, was occupied with the little blue book guaranteed to give all the rules, all the official information, all the strategic signals, and all the game of girls’ basketball, visionary and actual, the only omission noticeable being ball and basket.

Last year’s uniforms of green were decided upon as an economic measure, the war price of wools, and the actual scarcity of such materials putting a ban on the commodities usually used in college athletic costumes.

Jane had lined up her team, all pledged to run to the gym directly three thirty was dismissed. Grazia St Clair was one of the most promising forwards, and she had already proven her prowess. She could duck and dodge and sprint and “shoot a basket” while her companions of the team were extricating themselves from each others’ stockings. Judith occupied the critical position of standing center, and all her wisdom coupled with her indomitable push, earned the rather mystifying title of Towser. It was “get ’em, Towser!” and “shake ’em, Towser!” until Judith felt a peculiar interest in the very bones, inadvertently left on her dinner plate.

It was to be expected that Marian Seaton would occupy a place on the opposition team within Wellington. After many difficult meetings and “pow-wows” it was finally “amicably” agreed that two teams be formed from the juniors and sophs. The coach and managers were from the senior lines as were the referee and umpire.

On the first or Team One, Jane and her followers were placed, while the second, or Team Two, included Marian, Antonia Dexter, otherwise Tony, Mildred Jennings, Martha Rutledge, Dolorez Vincez and Molly Igo, all new girls with the exception of Marian. Just what ability this team possessed was a matter of interesting speculation for Team One. All worked hard and earnestly and every day was Field Day in the gym!

The epidemic spread alarmingly, until teams called respectively the Subs, the Scrubs, the Grubs and even the Dubs, fell into line, as naturally as birds following on the wing, and lonely indeed was the Wellington, who boasted not of her place on some of the many teams and teamsters. Helen took readily to the sport, and with Dickey Ripple and Weasie Blair, she worked enthusiastically with the Scrubs until the night of her interview with Jane, after that she lost heart. All Wellington seemed engulfed with the wave of basketball and that the circumspect faculty did not fall victims to the peril of the wily sphere can scarcely be affirmed with confidence. Weasie Blair declared she heard Mrs. Weatherbee arguing with Miss Rutledge on the difference between a personal foul and a technical foul, and Gloria Gude insisted her chemistry prof talked “dribbles” when she meant molecules.

On this particular afternoon Jane marshalled her forces, and not taking no for an answer from Judith, who preferred a hike to practice, had succeeded in getting a full team on the floor. As class president Jane felt it her duty to keep up the morale of her constituents in all sports. Massing for basketball might have been considered an obligation of captain or other official, although Jane assumed it willingly, thus leaving the upper class girls free for a more interesting part in the sport.

As the teams lined up some new rules just issued, were explained by the officials. They related principally to rulings and duties of scorers and referees and were quickly disposed of. All of the girls declared the old rules plenty good enough, and sufficiently complicated, nevertheless, the official guide for collegiates was their standard, and in spite of opposition the more complicated lines finally became part of the day’s lesson. It was towards the end of the second half at this practice game that poor Judith met her Waterloo in the way of a turned ankle. It seemed like Fate of course, as Judith had joked about the desirability of acquiring some small accident to relieve her of the day’s obligations, nevertheless the ankle had a very poor sense of humor, for it hurt, and Judith crumpled in a miserable little heap of blue serge and groans.

“Don’t try to stand on it, Judy dear,” cautioned Jane with a show of some anxiety in her voice.

“Stand on it!” wailed Judith. “I don’t believe I shall stand on that foot while I live. It hurts badly enough to last all my mortal life.”

“A mere trick,” whispered Dorolez Vincez to Marian Seaton.

“Hush!” cautioned the wise Marian. “Better not—let them hear you say that. They are all half cocked, ready to go off at any moment,” and the two opposition leaders, arm in arm, left the crowd gathered around the ill-fated Judith.

“All the same,” Dolorez insisted, “they will take that as an excuse to put in a stronger sub. See if they don’t. Stearns will not be able to play the Breslin game, and like as not our noble Jane (this with a sneer) will see to it that some upper class girl with skill, instead of giggles, takes the forward. I propose, Marian, that you be prepared to fight for disqualification, if they try that little time trick.”

“Oh, I don’t believe they will, Dolorez.” Even Marian was surprised at such suspicion. “You must have had a lot of experience? You are not really a professional, are you?”

“Oh, no!” and the foreign girl laughed derisively. “I have played a lot, but I am a junior here, am I not?”

“Yes, of course,” Marian assented. Nevertheless there was a note of uncertainty in her voice.

“Of course we are going to beat them,” went on the South American girl. “It is a good fight always, when we have two teams in one division. I have a little trick up my angel sleeve that they never could guess.”

“But, Dolorez,” cautioned Marian, “our rules are very strict, and we must conform to them. I want to beat the Jays of course, but we have to do it openly. We will never succeed with any trick where Jane Allen is concerned.”

“Oh, my! Since when has she won you over?”

“She has not won me over! In fact, I despise her more than ever, but I know we have got to meet facts, and that is a fact beyond dispute. If we want to hand the game to the Jays, all we have to do is to try on a few tricks. It would start them off like a match to gasoline. We would surely go up without smoke. No, Dolorez, I have been here for three years, you know, and I must admit some of the peculiar qualifications of our little red-head. They are to be counted on when a real fight is in the air.”

“Oh, all right, captain,” and Dolorez smiled the queer smile that even Marian did not relish. “Just as you say. But we must beat the Jays,” and it seemed to Marian the black eyes flashed dangerously, and betrayed more animus than might be safely dealt out in basketball.

Meanwhile Judith was being comforted and consoled with so many kinds of sympathy that Jane insisted she be carried back to her room and allowed to suffer in peace.

“I wanna die! I wanna die!” wailed the afflicted one. “I can’t go to the dance, and I can’t kick any more——”

“Oh, yes, you can,” Dozia Dalton, who had carried her head, put in. “You will kick, Judith, after the bugle blows!”

“And think of all the fudge you will get!” Grazia reminded her. Grazia was supporting the “intact leg.”

“And you may have my Yale pillow, that is inspiring enough to give thrills in the dullest hour,” offered Dicky Ripple.

“Oh, yes, I know, it is lovely of you all,” Judith managed to articulate, “but you have got your old ankles to fall back on. But take the advice of a friend—don’t fall.”