“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.