Julia Crosby and Grace Harlowe once more faced each other on the field of action.  This time Grace won the toss and sent the ball whizzing to the goal thrower, who tried for goal and caged the ball without effort.  This aroused the sophomores, and Grace could have danced for joy as she saw that they were really going to work in earnest.  The juniors were on the alert, too.  If they won to-day that meant the season’s championship.  If they won the third game, that meant a complete whitewash for the sophomores.

So the juniors hotly contested every inch of the ground, and the sophomores found that they had their hands full.  The first half of the game closed with the score 8 to 6 in favor of the juniors.

During the intermission of twenty minutes between halves, the sophomores retired to the little room off the gymnasium to rest.  The outlook was indeed gloomy.  It was doubtful whether they could make up their loss during the last half.  Marian Barber, Eva Allen and Miriam whispered together in one corner.  Grace sat with her chin in her hand, deep in thought, while Nora stood staring out the window trying to keep back the tears.  Two or three of the substitutes strolled in and joined Miriam’s group.  The whispering grew to be a subdued murmur.  The girls were evidently talking about Grace, hence their lowered voices.  Their long-suffering captain looked at them once or twice, made a move as if to join them, then sat down again.  Nora’s blood was up at the girls’ rudeness.  She marched over to the group and was about to deliver her opinion of them in scathing terms, when the whistle sounded.  There was a general scramble for places.  Then the ball was put in play and the second half began.

The sophomores managed to tie the score during the early part of the last half, and from that on held their own.  They fought strenuously to keep the juniors from scoring.  When the juniors did score, the plucky sophomores managed to do the same soon after.  There were two more minutes of the game, and the score stood 10 to 10.  It looked as though it might end in a tie.  One of the juniors had the ball.  With unerring aim she threw it to goal.  It never reached there, for Miriam Nesbit made a dash, sprang straight into the air and caught the ball before it reached its destination.  Quick as a flash she threw it to Nora, who threw it to Marian Barber.  The latter being near the basket threw it to goal without any trouble.

Before the juniors could get anywhere near the ball the whistle blew and the game closed.  Score 12 to 10.  The sophomores had won.

The noise in the gallery was deafening.  Miriam’s sensational playing had taken every one by storm.  A crowd of sophomores rushed down to the gymnasium and began dancing around her singing their class song.  Her cheeks were scarlet and her eyes blazed with triumph.  She was a lion at last, and now the rest would follow.  She felt sure that she would be asked to take the place of Grace as captain.  She had shown them what she could do.  Grace had done nothing but cause trouble.  The team would be better off without her.