“I’m here,” she answered.  “Help!  Help!”

Fortunately, they were passing the door at that instant and heard her muffled cries.

“Here,” she cried again, and they saw her at last, clinging desperately to the window ledge.

“I don’t dare open the window,” exclaimed David, thinking aloud.  “The slightest jar might make her lose her balance.  Grace,” he cried, “I’ll have to break out the upper sash.  Lower your head as much as possible and close your eyes.”

Another instant, and Grace was crouching in a shower of broken glass, which fell harmlessly on her back and the top of her head.  David knocked off the jagged pieces at the lower end, and Grace climbed nimbly over the sash.

“There’s no time for explanations now,” she cried.  “I was mysteriously locked in.  Has the game been called?”

David looked hurriedly at his watch.

“You have just a minute and a half,” he exclaimed, and the three ran madly down the steps and into the gymnasium just as the whistle blew and the girls took their places.

When Grace, covered with dust, a long, red scratch across one cheek, rushed into the gymnasium, wild applause shook the walls of the building, for the honor of the sophomore class was saved.

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.  “You are not playing as well as usual.  I expected you, especially, to do some fine work to-day.  On the contrary, you have never played worse.”

Miriam looked at her brother coldly.

“Why should I help them when they have dishonored me?” she demanded fiercely.

“How have they dishonored you, Miriam?” asked David.

“By making me the last in everything; putting me at the foot,” she said, stifling a sob of anger.