But Yardley found her revenge in another form of sport.

Tom had succeeded where Paul Rand had failed. Although the managers of the rival basket-ball teams had failed to reach an agreement the captains were more successful. Tom had offered to let Broadwood fix her own dates and name her own grounds for the series of three games, and Broadwood had promptly got over her peevishness. The Broadwood captain had politely replied that his team would play the first game at Broadwood, the second at Yardley and the deciding game, in case of a tie, at Broadwood. And he fixed the dates to please himself, requiring that all three contests take place inside of a fortnight in early March. Rand had held up his hands in holy horror when Tom had shown him the letter and declared that Tom was several sorts of a fool to accept such arrangements.

“It’s their turn to play the odd game here,” declared Rand. “Besides, who ever heard of[137] playing the first two games within three days of each other?”

“Oh, what does it matter?” asked Tom. “We want to play them, don’t we? Then what’s the use of haggling about it? I’ll play them any place and any time, just as I said I would.”

“But,” began Rand, a trifle haughtily, “as manager—”

“Paul,” said Tom, “you’re a good fellow, all right, but you’re a mighty poor manager.”

And Paul, who, after all, had plenty of sense, recognized the justice of the charge and said no more.

So one Wednesday evening a large part of Yardley Hall School rode over to Broadwood and saw Tom’s five defeat the green-stockinged warriors in their own gymnasium by a score of twelve to nine and came triumphantly home again in the moonlight chanting p?ans of victory and making night hideous.

“Well, that was going some!” declared Alf radiantly on the way home. “On their own floor, too!”

“And when they come over here Saturday night you’ll see us do worse than that to them,” said Tom grimly. “There isn’t going to be any third game in the series this year.”

And there wasn’t.

[138]

Broadwood sent over a good big number of “rooters” armed with flags, who did noble work with their lungs. But as Yardley had turned out almost to a man, the odds were too great in a contest of noise. The gymnasium was packed and jammed, downstairs and up, and the singing and cheering began half an hour before the time set for the game. Broadwood used one of her football songs with good effect. The verses didn’t amount to much, but the refrain, howled by a hundred throats, was always effective:
“Oh, what’ll we do to Yardley, to Yardley, to Yardley? Oh, what’ll we do to Yardley? (An eloquent and dramatic pause.) Well, really, I’d rather not say!”

And Yardley hurled back one of her own gridiron odes defiantly:
“Old Yardley has the men, my boy, Old Yardley has the steam, Old Yardley has the pluck and sand, Old Yardley has the team! Old Yardley can’t be beat, my boy, She’s bound to win the game! So give a cheer for Yardley and Hats off to Yardley’s fame!”

Tom, captain and center, played the game of his school life that night. If one imagined him slow, one had only to watch him for a moment on a gymnasium floor between the baskets. He was[139] the quickest slow person that ever imitated a streak of lightning! And he pulled his team along with him in a way that was beautiful to behold. Things began to happen right at the start. The first basket came less than a minute after the whistle had blown, resulting from a wonderful rush down the floor by Tom and Derrick followed by a swift shot by the latter. Then Broadwood gathered herself together and tightened up her defense. Her men for a while covered so closely that not even Tom could get away, and the ball hovered around the middle of the floor. Then one of the Yardley players was caught holding and Broadwood, amidst shouts of joy from the wavers of the green flags, scored a goal from foul. For several minutes there was no more scoring. Twice Yardley had the ball under her rival’s basket. Once a poor shot lost them the score. The next time Broadwood “mixed it up” so strenuously that there was no chance to shoot. Then a Broadwood boy stole the ball and charged down the hall almost alone. But the Yardley defense was not napping, and a blue-shirt charged into the enemy just in time to spoil the throw. After that Broadwood seemed to get rattled, for Yardley scored thrice from the floor, one basket by Tom being sent from almost half the length of the gymnasium and bringing the supporters of[140] the home team to their feet with a roar of delight. The half ended with the score eight to one, and it looked like a pretty certain thing for the Yardley five.

But Broadwood still shouted and sang defiantly, and when the teams lined up and play began again it was soon evident that the Broadwood coach had been saying things out there in the dressing room. For Broadwood’s team play began to be in evidence again, and although for a while she played more on the defense than attack, it was plain to be seen that Yardley would have to work hard to keep from being scored on.

Broadwood’s chance came in the middle of the period. A well-arranged rush down the floor, with all her attack taking part, ............