The two weeks after the exhibition had been taken up by final examinations an anxious time for the graduating class.

Seddon Hall kept up a high standard and no girl could receive a diploma unless her marks showed a high average. When the papers were all corrected, a notice was posted on the bulletin board of the girls who had failed. Betty called it the black list.

“I know perfectly well my name will lead them all,” she said. They were waiting in the corridor, for the list was to be posted to-day. “And if the Spartan has anything to do with it, she’ll probably print it extra large,” she added.

Angela and Polly and Lois were with her, and to a less extent they shared her fears.

“It really doesn’t matter so much to you,” Angela said; “You’re none of you going to college, but imagine if I flunk anything.”

“You can make it up this summer,” Lois said.

“Yes, and take entrance exams. No, thanks; I’d prefer entering on certificate,” Angela drawled.

Evelin and Helen came out of the study hall. “Any news yet?” Evelin asked.

Betty shook her head. “No,” she said, solemnly, “it must be a very long list they are making out. What are you two nervous about?”

“Everything in general,” Helen said, hopelessly, “but history in particular.”

“The Dorothys are calmly indifferent,” Polly remarked. “Why aren’t they here?”

“They’re coming now,” Evelin said. “No news?” she called.

Dot Mead stopped half way down the corridor.

“This suspense is killing me,” she said, “we’ve been trying to study our parts, but it’s no use.”

“This awful delay argues the very worst,” Betty said. “We’ve all flunked everything, and all those beautiful new diplomas will never be used. What a cruel waste.”

“Betty, do try and be a little more cheerful,” Polly pleaded; “can’t you see my knees are knocking together? Oh, if I ever live through this week!”

“That’s the way I feel,” Lois agreed, forlornly. “I’ve a million and one things to do and no time. Think of it, Field Day to-morrow!”

“And that means, we ought to be practicing all day to-day,” Evelin said.

“Exactly, but if I practice to-day, I won’t know my part for the play. I do wish Portia hadn’t talked so much,” Lois answered.

“Then there’s all the things to see to about the dance,” Angela added.

“And the Commencement Hymn to learn,” Helen reminded them.

“The game’s the most important,” Polly said, decidedly, “but I don’t want any of the team to do any practicing. Some one would be sure to get hurt.”

“What are you going to do about Eleanor?” Betty asked.

“Give her a chance,” Polly told her; “but she knows that the first foul she makes I take her out and put Maud in.”

“Good! was she hurt?” Lois asked.

“No; she understands, and she’s promised to be very careful

“Oh, where oh, where is that list?” Dorothy Lansing returned to the subject with a sigh.

They waited in silence for a while longer, and at last their patience was rewarded. They heard a step on the stair and Mrs. Baird came towards them.

“What is this? a Senior class meeting?” she asked, smiling.

“No,” Betty answered for them all. “We’re waiting in agonized suspense for the exam list.”

“Why, you poor children,” Mrs. Baird laughed; “there isn’t any list this year. You all passed in everything.”

There was an exclamation of joyful relief from the girls.

“Thank goodness!” from Polly. “Now we can breathe in peace. Oh, but I’m glad!”

“Wasn’t it fortunate I happened to come up,” Mrs. Baird laughed. “You might have waited all afternoon. I really came to tell you that I have made arrangements at the hotel for all your families for the night before Commencement, and to find out if you expected any one here for the game to-morrow. Your mother and father are coming, Betty. I heard from them to-day.”

“My uncle is coming if he possibly can,” Polly added.

“Mother and Dad will surely be here,” Lois said, “and so will Bob; but he’ll be late.”

“There will be more visitors than usual for to-morrow, won’t there?” Mrs. Baird asked. “You’ll have to win the game, Polly.”

“If I don’t, I’ll hide somewhere and never show my face again,” Polly answered. “Think how awful it would be to lose on our own floor, and with visitors to witness the defeat.”

“Well, don’t worry about it,” Mrs. Baird advised. “You know the best team always wins.”

“We beat last year. So this year it’s their turn,” Angela teased.

The next day the visitors began to arrive on the noon train. All morning the girls had been busy decorating the gym and practicing songs. By luncheon time everything was ready, and the Fenwick school team arrived in one big carryall, followed by another, filled with their friends and well-wishers. Polly, as captain, was so busy with her duties that she had only a minute now and then to think of the game.

Dr. and Mrs. Farwell came among the first guests and she and Lois happened to be in the front hall when they arrived.

“Where’s Uncle Roddy?” Polly asked, after she had greeted them, “and where, oh, where is Bob?”

“Roddy will be up later,” the doctor told her.

“And Bob may not be able to come,” Mrs. Farwell explained. “You see he wants to be here surely for the dance

“Jim’s coming too, isn’t he?” Lois interrupted. “He wrote he would.”

“Yes; they’ll both be here to-morrow without fail,” her mother assured her. “And Bob will come to-day, if he possibly can.”

But there was no sign of him when Polly glanced up at the visitors’ gallery, as the Seddon Hall team marched into the gym at two o’clock.

“There’s a train due now; maybe he’s on that,” Lois whispered under cover of the singing.

“What a bunch of people,” Betty exclaimed, looking around the room.

Every seat in the gallery was filled with friends and relatives, and the girls had been forced to find places on the floor downstairs.

The teams stopped and faced each other in the center of the floor. Polly’s heart sank; somehow the Fenwick team looked more imposing in gym suits than she had expected, and she remembered that one of the guards had told her they had won every game they had played that year.

“Perhaps,” she thought, “it’s just as well Bob isn’t here.”

They took their places on the floor, and Miss Stewart blew the whistle. In a game that really counts, there is no sound so exciting as that first whistle. It means so much. Betty rose to her toes at the sound of it, and faced the opposing jumping center.

“I think I’d like the first ball,” the Fenwick girl said, laughing.

“Sorry, but you can’t have it,” Betty replied, bounding into the air; “it’s mine!” She batted it back towards Fanny.

“Good!” Polly whispered to Lois, and raised her left hand above her head.

But the Fenwick side center intercepted Fanny’s pass and, before they knew it, the ball was down at the other end. Evelin failed to guard her forward and, after a high toss, the ball fell into the basket.

Dorothy Mead, as official score keeper, drew a 2 slowly on the blackboard. Fanny felt the fault was entirely hers and turned appealing eyes to her captain.

“Cheer up!” Polly called. “That’s only one; dodge her next time.”

But Fanny didn’t get a chance to even touch the ball, for Betty lost the toss up, and the ball was spirited away to the other goal. Evelin fought hard, but Eleanor was so busy thinking about the lines that the Fenwick team made another basket.

“Oh, this is awful! I never saw Eleanor so slow,” Lois said.

Betty lost the next toss up, too, but, fortunately, Evelin stopped it and threw to Fanny. She passed to Betty, and Lois waited for it near the line, but her guard kept her from getting it. They fought hard in the center for the next few minutes. Eleanor got so excited that she stepped over the line, the whistle blew, and the Fenwick forward made a basket. The score was five to nothing.

Eleanor looked at Polly, but she shook her head.

“The first half is almost up,” she said to Lois. “I don’t want to change yet.”

Fanny fumbled the next ball Betty sent her.

“That’s inexcusable,” Lois declared, angrily, and Betty stamped her foot in rage. Fanny began to cry.

“That’s the end,” Lois said; “you can’t put a sub in for her.”

“No; but I can do something equally as good,” Polly replied, quietly. “Wait till this half is over.” It was like her to be carelessly hopeful, when everybody else was in despair.

The Fenwick team scored again before the longed-for whistle blew.

“There’s Bob and Uncle Roddy,” Polly said, just as the ball dropped into the basket. “He’s looking at the score,” she added, laughing.

Lois stared at her in amazement.

“Poll, what’s the matter with you?” she demanded. “Do you realize that the score is seven to nothing!”

“Yes,” Polly replied in unruffled tones, “but there’s another half, and you seem to have forgotten that.”

The school broke into a song and the teams sat down for a much needed rest. Polly looked up at the gallery and nodded merrily to Bob. Then she went up to Eleanor.

“I’m sorry; but I’m going to put Maud in the next half,” she said.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Eleanor exclaimed. “I’ve lost my nerve.”

“Get ready, Maud,” Polly said, going over to the subs; “you’ve got a hard job ahead.”

“Righto!” Maud said, instantly; and Polly walked over to Fanny. She was crying on Betty’s shoulder.

“Take me out,” she sobbed, as Polly came up. “I’m no good on earth.”

“You are quite right; you aren’t,” Polly replied, sternly. “I never saw such a silly exhibition of flunk. If I had any one to put in your place, I would; but you know I haven’t.”

Betty looked up in surprise. She thought Polly was being a little too hard on poor Fanny.

“I never saw such poor plays in my life,” Polly continued, relentlessly. “You seemed to enjoy flunking. If you’d stop thinking of Jack and John and the rest of your admirers and pay a little attention to the game, we might stand a chance,” she concluded, coldly.

“Why, Polly!” Fanny dried her eyes. “You shouldn’t talk to me like that. I did the best I could, and I wasn’t thinking of boys,” she denied, angrily, “and you know it.”

Polly refused to even listen. She turned her back on Fanny and sat down beside Lois.

“And that’s all right,” she said contentedly.

“What is?” Lois demanded. “Poll, we haven’t a chance.”

“Oh, yes, we have; just watch.”

The whistle blew for the second half and the teams returned to their places. Instead of tears, Fanny’s eyes flashed indignant protest, and her mouth was set in a firm line.

Maud took Eleanor’s place, much to the latter’s satisfaction. Betty won the first toss up, passed the ball to Fanny. She bounced it to line and threw it to Polly. She was so angry that she literally fired the ball. Polly caught it, tossed it to Lois, and she made a clean basket.

“What did I tell you?” she said; “we’re going to win this game.”

They played hard for the rest of the half. Maud persistently refused to let the Fenwick forward even touch the ball. In her attempt to get beyond the reach of Maud’s guarding arm, she went over the line, and Polly made a basket on the foul.

The spectators were breathless as the score mounted up 7-3, 7-5 and at last 7-7. The girls cheered encouragement and Bob and Uncle Roddy clapped so hard that Polly and Lois looked up and waved.

Lois had just caught a ball that Betty threw and was aiming for a basket when the whistle blew.

“Now, what!” Betty demanded. “We can’t stop with a tie.”

Miss Stewart consulted the two captains.

“We will play an extra two minutes,” she said, “to decide. Ready!”

It was a tense second. The school groaned as the Fenwick center won the toss, but they had forgotten Maud. She jumped high in the air and batted the ball back to Betty, who passed it to Fanny, and then ran to the line to receive it again. Lois was waiting for it and passed it low to Polly and dashed to the goal post. Polly threw it back to her and she threw for the basket. There was an agonized silence as the ball tottered on the iron rim, that broke into a shout of triumph as it dropped in the basket, a fraction of a minute before the whistle blew.

Seddon Hall had won a splendid victory and Polly’s dream was realized. The girls crowded around her and cheered; then lifted her according to custom, shoulder high, and carried her around the room.

“Where’s Fanny Gerard?” she asked as soon as they put her down before the cup she had won.

“Here!” Betty called, pulling the reluctant center to her.

Polly threw her arms around her. “Fanny, will you ever forgive me?” she said. “I didn’t mean a word of all those horrid things I said not one. I only did it to make you mad. I knew if you could only begin to rage, you’d get back your nerve, and you did; you played like a little fury but oh, how I hated to do it!”

Fanny threw back her head and laughed with relief. “Oh, Polly!” she exclaimed, “I thought you really meant it.”

Maud accepted Polly’s praise with genuine pleasure. For once her stolid indifference gave way to natural enthusiasm. Mrs. Baird presented Polly with the cup, and the Fenwick captain added to her joy by telling her that she had never seen such a wonderful exhibition of generalship. Dr. and Mrs. Farwell, with Uncle Roddy and Bob were waiting at the door as the girls came out bundled up in their sweaters.

“Good for you, Polly!” Bob said, enthusiastically. “That certainly was a ripping game, and you deserve a whole lot of credit. I take back everything I ever said about your girls’ basket ball. Let’s see the cup,” he added.

Polly showed it to him.

“I’m proud of you, Tiddledewinks,” Uncle Roddy said, “and Lois, too. You have a splendid eye. That last goal was well made.” He put his hand on her shoulder.

“I’m dumbfounded!” the doctor exclaimed. “I had no idea girls did anything as strenuous as this.”

“You must be tired out?” Mrs. Farwell said, “and you’ll catch cold. Do hurry back to school and change.”

Polly and Lois started.

“I wish Jim had been here,” Lois called over her shoulder to Bob. “Perhaps he might have changed his mind about basket ball being a good enough girls’ game,” she said.

“He’ll be here to-morrow,” Bob replied. “And you can trust me to see that his mind is changed,” he promised.