Dan opened the window and thrust his head out.

“The enemy approaches,” he announced. Below him, up the hill, approached the Broadwood barge, its lamps boring holes in the darkness. He could hear the straining of the horses, the crunch of wheels on the gravel and the voices of the occupants. “What time is it?” he asked, closing the window again with a shiver.

“Twenty-five to eight,” replied Gerald, laying his book down with an expression of relief. “Let’s go over.”

“It’s a bit early. We’ll walk over and get Alf first. Put your coat on, chum. It’s as cold as they make it to-night.”

A quarter of an hour later the three of them were sitting in the front row of the balcony at the gymnasium doing their share of the cheering which had burst forth as the Yardley Basket Ball Team had trotted onto the floor. Broadwood appeared[223] a moment later and for ten minutes the baskets quivered under the assaults of the balls as the players danced back and forth and shot at goal. The cheering kept up, for everyone was in high spirits at the prospect of a decisive victory over Broadwood in the final contest. Broadwood had sent a dozen or two supporters who had congregated at one corner of the floor and were heroically encouraging their team. At a few minutes past eight the referee, athletic director of the Greenburg Y. M. C. A., called the teams together. Goals were chosen and the Blue and the Green arranged themselves about the floor. Up went the ball in the ring and Short, stretching his long arm high in air, tipped it back to Tom. A pass across the floor, a second pass to a waiting guard, a step forward and an easy toss and the ball dropped through Yardley’s basket for the first score in something under two seconds. Yardley cheered and stamped and a black 2 appeared on the board opposite the Y.

Two more easy baskets followed before Broadwood pulled herself together. Then her defense covered closer and, although Yardley pushed the war into the enemy’s territory time and again during the succeeding ten minutes, she was unable to add to the 6 she had secured. Short’s[224] ability at center handicapped Broadwood, for that tall youth was able, nine times out of ten, to put the ball in any direction he pleased. Usually it went to Tom, who played right forward, and who was so quick and certain at passing that the ball was under Yardley’s goal before the defense was aware of it. But after the first ten minutes of play Broadwood’s captain worked an improvement in the work of his team. They covered better and Tom found that his opponent had taken on the semblance of a leech and was always at his elbow, no matter how hard he tried to shake him off. Broadwood made her first score from a free try after a Yardley player had been detected holding and the little knot of Blue adherents in the corner cheered lustily. That 1 on the board seemed to bring encouragement and the Green set to work furiously. A long and lucky shot from almost the middle of the floor brought cries of approval from even the Yardley throng and made the score 6 to 3.

The play was roughing up a good deal and presently a double foul was called. Yardley failed at her attempt and Broadwood succeeded, and again the score changed.

“Come on, now!” called Tom. “Stop that fouling and get busy!”

[225]

In response Yardley worked through the Broadwood defense by pretty team work and scored again, but that was the last basket of the period and the twenty minutes ended with the figures on the board 8 to 4 in favor of the home team.

During the ten minutes intermission Yardley amused herself singing songs, while from the floor at intervals came faintly the sound of Broadwood’s cheers.

“Well, that’s a good margin to begin the next half on,” said Alf contentedly. “But it doesn’t look to me that Tom’s aggregation of world beaters is quite up to form. What do you think, Dan?”

“They’re slow. Tom’s been driving them all the way. We haven’t got this old game yet, Alf.”

“Oh, we’ll have it all right. Here they come.”

Broadwood had made two changes in her team and the changes worked for the better. The new men were lighter in weight but far speedier, and, moreover, they were fresh and untired. From the start of the last half the Blue began to overhaul her rival. The 4 changed to a 6, and then to an 8, and the score was tied. Over the edge of the balcony hung a fringe of shouting, gesticulating red-faced youths. A foul was called on[226] Broadwood and Yardley led by one point. Then followed a long and desperate throw by a Yardley forward which in some miraculous way got through the basket.

“That’s the stuff, fellows!” shouted Tom, racing back to his position and fighting off his too-affectionate opponent. “We’ve got them on the run now! Play it up!”

For once Short missed the toss and the ball sped away toward a Broadwood forward. The center raced down the floor as the ball came back to him. A Yardley guard dived toward him, the center feinted and let him go sprawling by. Short engaged him from behind and for a moment gave him all he could do. Then a Blue youth eluded his man, took the ball at a short pass and threw it backwards and over his head for one of the prettiest goals of the evening.

For some reason that appeared to demoralize Yardley. She fought desperately and wildly, but her men forgot team play and it was everyone for himself. Tom begged and commanded, but dissolution had the team. Twice Broadwood scored from the floor because the Yardley defense, over-anxious, had allowed itself to be coaxed away from goal, and twice she won points from free tr............