CHAPTER XIX.
THE GREAT GAME It was a pitched battle from the very beginning.
The junior team was in splendid trim, and they played with great finish and judgment; but the sight of Grace, one side of whose face was tinged with blood that had risen to the surface from the deep scratch, seemed to spur the sophomores to the most spectacular and brilliant plays.
Only one girl lagged, and was not in her usual trim.

It was Miriam Nesbit, whose actions were dispirited and showed no enthusiasm.

Her shooting was so inaccurate that a wave of criticism spread over the audience, and the members of her own class watched her with deep anxiety.

When the first half ended, however the sophomores were two points to the good.
"Grand little players!" cried Hippy, expressing his joy by kicking both feet against the wooden walls as hard as he could, while he clapped his hands and roared with all his might.
"The gamest little team I ever saw," answered Reddy.
But David, who had resumed his seat beside them, made no reply.

He rose presently and went to find his sister, who was sitting somewhat apart from the other girls in gloomy silence.
"What's the matter with you, sister ?" he asked gently.