"But doesn't it seem simply rotten," came from Peggy, slowly, "that a player like her shouldn't be in the school eleven, playing for the school. Of course I know--" she paused, uncomfortably. "Well, I suppose it's her own fault and the hockey club were right enough to drop her and--and all that. But, dash it all, it seems such a waste! I bet she's the finest centre-forward Easthampton's ever had." "And knowing that she can play like that," added Daisy, thoughtfully, "she must hate being out of all the big matches." Little Erica Salter had been standing near by listening eagerly, motionless, her hands hanging down by her sides, her eyes, with a very rapt look in them, fixed on Daisy and Peggy as they were speaking. The emotional, sensitive child was plainly stirred to the depths by the thrilling happenings of the afternoon, of which the tingling sense of excitement and triumph still pervaded the whole atmosphere. She spoke up suddenly, when Daisy had finished: "But supposing--just supposing Duane never did it after all?" "Well then, it would be jolly hard lines on her, that's all I can say," replied Peggy. "But I don't see why we need bother our heads about that. Duane must have done it. Nobody else could have." "But supposing another girl had done it, and kept it secret?" "Then all I can say is that she'd be the meanest sort of creature alive," returned Peggy, decidedly, "and if she were ever found out, the girls would jolly well make the school too hot to hold her." Erica clasped her hands nervously together, and said with solemn conviction, "I'm sure she would deserve everything she got." Just at that moment the door opened, and in came Duane, Kitty and the other hockey players, having washed and cleaned themselves in their own cubicles. They had come to change their muddy footgear. "Great Scott!" exclaimed Duane, in her soft familiar drawl. "What a crowd! The whole house seems to have assembled in the boot-room, evidently under the mistaken impression that it's a hotel lounge. Clear out, you kids. Don't you know tea bell's gone?" There was a general scramble for the door. Kitty, drawing on a pair of indoor shoes, was overcome with laughter at the sight. In a very short time the room was cleared of all except the hockey players themselves. "Hurry up, girls," Duane advised. "You know Miss Carslake hates anyone to be late in to meals. Everyone ready?" Daisy stretched her arms above her head. "Oh dear! I'm sure I shall be stiff all over to-morrow. But it was worth being stiff for the rest of the term. I say, Duane," she added, half hesitating, half wistfully. "We didn't let you down, did we? Towards the end, you know." Duane, her hand on the door-handle, turned and faced them, lounging back against the door with easy, unstudied grace, aristocrat in every line of her.