“Yes, let’s!” roared the surrounding girls, and in spite of protests and appeals, Jane was raised to shoulders, then quickly carried to the far end of the gym where the spread was “cast.” It was a good-natured crowd that surrounded the improvised tables, and even the losers took their defeat in the proper spirit, all but Marian and Dolorez. They had left the gym. “What was the matter with that old basket?” asked the good-natured Tony Dexter. “I was waiting all afternoon for a chance to sub, and just when I got it, ‘whoop’ in went the ball into the net.” “Yes, and when I all but tucked it in its little bed, it tumbled out,” sighed Ted Guthrie comically. “Anyway, I had two bounces and one dribble, that makes a nice little record for my home report. I love to say I dribbled, sounds so cute and baby like. Makes mama think I am cutting my eye teeth,” supplemented the big, clumsy Drusilla Landers, who was so big it was a joke for her to talk of baby and teeth. “Eat, children! Eat! For to-morrow we starve,” commanded Constance Lipton, a grad. “Jane, here is a sandwich made expressly for Center. See its pretty curve?” “Oh, it tastes good all around too,” added Jane, munching the tid-bit all around, making a circle to outline center. “I love them this way.” “That’s just always the way it is,” wailed little Clare Bradley. “When a girl gets popular she receives all the honors. Jane Allen is over-subscribed—that is what Daddy calls it in the Liberty Loans.” Everybody roared at pretty little Clare’s definition of Jane’s popularity. To be over-subscribed in honors! “I’ll admit I have more than my share!” Jane replied, “but then you see, my second had to go and hurt her ankle. Otherwise she might have made that big throw.” “Oh, never!” protested Judith. “If I saw that basket waiting for my ball, I would have been stage struck, and ducked. I tell you, Janie, you looked like all the cowboys when you made that throw. I’ll wager you had in mind my particular Fedario. Girls, you should see my Fedario! He’s the handsomest, blackest, wildest cowboy—with the most wonderful skill at his ropes.” “Oh, of course,” yelled Weasie Blair. “Janey ought to be best at basketball. Think of her cowboy training.” “And the baskets the Indians make!” supplemented Gloria Gude. “And the great big balls that come with the hail storms,” Ted Guthrie drawled out foolishly. “I believe if I were brought up in the hills of Montana I could play anything from hookey to bean bag.” A deluge of scraps and crumbs put an end to Ted’s wit. As it was, she had a blouse pocket full of coffee, and she bore up with at least one ear full of cookey crumbs. “But where is Helen?” asked Dickey Ripple between munches of real bread, and nibs at a soda biscuit. “Haven’t seen her in eons.” “Oh, she was in during the battle,” Jane made answer. “But Nellie is at something new in music, and she simply cannot tear herself away from that fiddle.”