CHAPTER XI

PRACTICING FOR THE INDOOR MEET

The last bell had just sounded and the girls were leaving the schoolroom for the day. Two weeks had passed since the Valentine party. Today was Wednesday and the coming Saturday was the date fixed for the Indoor Meet.

The Whitehead School basket-ball team was to meet the Seddon Hall girls for their annual game. The year before they had played at Whitehead and were beaten. This year the game was to be played at Seddon Hall and the girls were determined there should be no more defeats.

"Wait a minute, you two," called Connie, as she and Angela caught up with Polly and Lois in the schoolroom corridor. "I've news; such news!"

"What is it?" inquired Lois, in the act of retying Polly's hair ribbon.

"Don't breathe a word about it. I don't suppose Louise Preston wants it known all over the school," answered Connie. "But as I was going through Senior Corridor to my music lesson, I heard her say to Gladys Couch (jumping center on the big team): 'Then you won't be here for Saturday?' And Glid said: 'Isn't it awful, Louise, but I don't see how I can possibly get back before Monday.' Well, of course, Polly, you know what that means."

"What's the giddy secret?" sang out Betty, coming towards them from one of the classrooms.

"Bet, oh, Bet, catch me quick!" cried Polly, falling into her arms in a mock faint. "Such news! Tell her, some one, quick!"

"Wah!" exclaimed Betty when she had heard. "You'll have to play on the big team, Polly. Isn't that bully!"

As they all stood talking it over, in subdued whispers, Louise Preston appeared at the other end of the corridor.

"Oh, Polly," she called, "can you spare me a few minutes? Let's go in this classroom; then we won't be disturbed."

She put her arm around Polly's shoulder as she had done the first day. Once inside the classroom, she began:

"We've had some pretty bad news this morning. Gladys Couch received a telegram that her brother is going to be married on Saturday. Well, of course, Glid will have to go home. She can't very well ask them to postpone the wedding," she added, smiling, "and that leaves us without a jumping center. Polly, you know we simply must win this game. You'll have to play and you'll have to play as you never played before. Better get some practicing in and, remember, I'm depending on you."

She was gone before Polly could realize what had happened. She spent the rest of the day in the gym with Lois and Betty as Louise had suggested.

Misfortunes never come singly. The next day Flora Illington, the other substitute center, had a phone message that her father was very ill and she had to leave at once. Flora was just one of the girls at Seddon Hall; apart from her position on the team, she had no particular place in the school.

However, it was with genuine sympathy and feeling that the girls saw her leave and the week after heard of her father's death.

Flora never returned to school and after the letters of condolence were written and answered, she was forgotten.

Polly met Louise in the gym that afternoon.

"Isn't it dreadful about Flora?" she began.

"Yes, I hope there's nothing serious the matter with her father," Louise answered. Then with a sigh: "I suppose I'm a brute, but I can't help thinking, there goes another substitute."

"Cheer up," advised Polly, "she probably wouldn't have been needed. How are the songs getting along?"

"Wonderfully! Betty and Angela handed in two dandies today, but of course I'm looking to the Juniors for most of them."

"Well, so long."

"Don't work too hard, and don't you dare hurt yourself."

"I won't, and you cheer up."

Louise left the gym and Polly jumped into the game, calmly taking the ball out of Connie's astonished hands.

She worked furiously all afternoon and when next she had a minute to breathe she was back in her own room getting ready for her bath.

"I tell you, Polly," sang out Betty from across the hall, "you certainly played this afternoon."

"Hum!" Polly grumbled, screwing her hair up into a tight knot. "I made a nasty foul. Thank goodness Louise wasn't there."

"Aren't you two slow pokes ready for your baths yet?" demanded Lois, thumping on the door.

"Well, I can't find my slippers," Polly complained, rummaging under the bed. "Angela," she called, "darling Angela, please lend me your slippers."

"All right, here they come." And a pair of Chinese slippers flew through the transom.

"Thanks! Oh, I say, I asked for slippers, not stilts," Polly grumbled. "How do you keep the crazy things on?"

"Ingratitude, thy name is Polly," began Angela, but Polly was half way down the hall and out of hearing, with Lois and Betty. Lois was saying:

"How did you ever manage to make that foul?" And Polly explained, just as they came to the head of the stairs.

"Why, Connie had the ball and I jumped for it. She tried to pass it to Dot and I thought I could get it by batting it back, like this--"

She leaned forward to show what she meant, completely forgetting the stairs. Angela's slippers gave a half twist and she plunged headlong down the steps.

Miss King said her ankle was badly sprained and the doctor was summoned.

She lay on the infirmary bed, biting her lips and trying to keep back the tears. The doctor had strapped her ankle and told Miss King that she was not to put her foot to the ground for two weeks.

At last Louise's voice sounded outside the door.

"All right," she was saying. "I promise to stay only a second." And in a minute she was at Polly's side. It was more than the poor child could stand. She burst into tears and hid her face in the pillows.

"Oh, Louise," she sobbed, "can you ever forgive me? And you told me to be careful!"

"Why, honey child, you couldn't help it," comforted Louise. "Here, cheer up, you'll make yourself sick. Angela's downstairs tearing her hair out and swearing vengeance on her poor slippers."

"But the game! Who'll play in my place?" wailed Polly.

"That is just what I came up to talk to you about," Louise told her. "Can you suggest any one? We're stumped."

"Wouldn't Betty do? I know she'd be careful about fouls. Please give her a chance."

"I think perhaps you're right. I'll go and talk to her," Louise replied. "Be good, dear, and don't worry. I know it's a terrible disappointment." And she leaned over and kissed Polly's hot cheek.

"All right, I'll try. If you see Lois will you ask her to come up and talk to me? I'll go crazy if I have to stay here alone."

But it was not until some hours later that Lois appeared. Miss King thought solitude the best thing for Polly's feverish condition.

"You are a nice one," grumbled Polly when Lois entered the room. "I thought you were never coming near me again."

"Come near you! Why, I've been sitting outside Miss King's door all afternoon, waiting for permission to see you. Poor darling! How's the ankle? Awfully painful?" explained Lois.

"Do you mean to tell me Miss King wouldn't let you in before now?" demanded Polly.

"Yes; she said you were very feverish and she wanted you to rest; and for goodness' sake don't excite yourself or I'll have to leave; you must be kept quiet."

"And here I've been thinking you a cold-hearted wretch all afternoon. Just wait till I see Miss King!"

"What are you going to do to her?" asked that lady herself, poking her white-capped head around the corner of the door.

"Oh, there you are, eh?" laughed Polly. "Why wouldn't you let Lois come in before?"

"Because I'm a cross old thing," laughed Miss King. "But just to show you that I can be nice sometimes, if you have no more fever I'll let her stay and have supper with you. Now what am I?"

"You're a darling and I'll love you forever, but don't you dare find I have a fever," replied Polly.

Miss King did find her temperature a little above normal, but so little that Lois was permitted to stay, and the two of them had such a jolly time that Polly almost succeeded in forgetting the coming game and her own disappointment, and you may be sure Lois carefully kept off that dangerous subject. The time passed so quickly that the bell for study hour rang long before they expected it, and Lois had to fly to escape being late.

"Lo, half a minute," Betty called just before the good-night bell. "I've something to tell you. I am chosen to fill Polly's place tomorrow. Louise just told me."

"I'm awfully glad for you, Bet," answered Lois. "I know you'll make good, but--"

"Yes, it's that but that makes me so miserable," replied Betty. "How can I be excited and pleased when I know Polly's up there in the infirmary--Oh, it makes me sick to think of it!" she finished, and before Lois could reply, she had disappeared into her own room and closed the door.

"Poor Betty," sighed Lois sympathetically. "It's all a mean shame."

Just before Miss King turned out the infirmary lights, she delivered a note to Polly. It read:

"Polly Dear:

"Louise has asked me to play in your place on Saturday. I know you suggested it to her, too. Well, my chance has come and I am miserably unhappy at the very thought. I know I'll make a million fouls and we'll lose the game. Darn every bedroom slipper that was ever invented!

"Your doleful, "Betty."

"Poor old Bet," smiled Polly. "Well, if she only makes good I won't be half so unhappy at not playing myself."

In less than five minutes she was sound asleep, and the next morning Miss King pronounced her temperature normal.