Contestants climbed, traveled on rings, and vaulted the horse.  Winona seemed to herself as easy and agile as she had ever been.  She had a possible chance of winning, and her heart exulted.  Then came the ladders.  Up and up she went, holding herself now by her hands and now by her feet swinging for her hold.  She had thought she was light, but now she suddenly realized how heavy she was!  She summoned every bit of strength as she went down the ladder.  From one contest to another she passed, doing her best.

Last of all came the rings.  Winona swung out, grasped the next ring, and so on down the line.  Oh, how many there were!  She had never before realized what it meant to weigh 7 st. 10 lbs.  She held her breath as she reached for the next ring, but it slipped from her fingers.  Only for a second, however, for she caught it on the next swing, and a moment later was waiting at the end.  Bessie was just starting.  Down the line she traveled, not so gracefully, perhaps, as Winona, but catching her ring on every swing.  Joyce followed, but mid-way her courage deserted her, and she failed utterly.  Marjorie came next.  She was doing well surely!  She was nearly through, reached for the last ring, missed it, and fell!  There was an instant murmur of consternation from the audience.  Was she injured?  She sprang up unhurt, however, though deeply humiliated.

Thrilling in every nerve, Winona started back.  Refreshed by her little rest, she swung lightly, steadily and unfalteringly, never missing a ring till she came to the end.  She was almost too occupied to notice the cheers.  Bessie reached mid-way, then missed a ring, caught it on the second swing, missed another, and reached for it three times before she caught it and finished her course.

The girls had been too much excited for comparisons.  They scarcely guessed how their averages would stand.  Winona had a general impression that Bessie had scored at vaulting, and Marjorie had undoubtedly cleared the rope at four feet eight.  Her own performances seemed lost in a haze; she had noticed the judge jot down something, but she felt incapable of reckoning her chances.

The judge was conferring with Miss Bishop at the back of the platform, and while the room waited for their decision the school marched, singing an Empire song.

At last the judge stepped to the front of the platform.  The singing ceased.  Winona’s heart beat suffocatingly.

“I have great pleasure in giving the results,” announced the judge.  “Preparatory prize, Elaine Jennings; Junior prize, Lennie Roberts; Intermediate prize, Laura Marshall; Senior prize, Winona Woodward.”

The applause was ringing out lustily.  Bessie, Marjorie and Joyce were pressing congratulations upon her.  Miss Bishop (actually the Head!) was looking at her and smiling approval.  Miss Lever was telling her to walk forward.  In a delirious whirl, Winona climbed the steps on the platform.  As Councillor Jackson pinned the medal on to her tunic, a storm of clapping and cheers rose from the school.  Their Games Captain was popular, and everybody felt it right and fitting that this afternoon she should have proved herself the athletic champion.