When the chimes rang out a melodious Angelus at six o’clock that evening, the sophomore-freshman game was over and the freshman had received the most complete whitewash on record at Hamilton. The score at the end of the game was 26-4 in favor of the sophs. In the freshman quarters, just off the main floor of the gymnasium, Lola Elster sat weeping tears of sheer fury, with Miss Cairns alone to comfort her.

“They told me they wouldn’t work hard! They told me it would be a walk away!” she reiterated vengefully. “You wait. I’ll be even with that Joan Myers!” The bulk of her spite was directed against Joan, with whom she had come most into contact during the game.

On the way to their respective campus houses, groups of indignant freshmen freely discussed and deplored the disgrace that had fallen upon them. At least thirty-five girls were bound for Silverton Hall, walking five abreast, their clear voices rising high in the energy of discussion. Among these were Marjorie, Ronny, Jerry and Lucy. All four were separated, each walking in a different group.

In the foremost rank were Robin Page, Portia Graham, Elaine Hunter, Blanche Scott and Marjorie. Four of them were engaged in trying to console Robin, who was feeling the disgrace keenly.

“You should have resigned from that team, Robin, the minute you saw what they were at practice,” Blanche Scott said energetically. “It was fine in you to stick for the honor of the class. You did your best today, under the circumstances. You were the only one who scored.”

“Yes; you need not feel bad, Robin,” consoled Portia Graham. “I know one thing. There is going to be a new freshman team before long, and I hope you will play center.”

“You believe, then, Portia, that we ought to raise a real fuss and demand a new team?” Elaine Hunter’s blue eyes were alight with anticipation. She was glad to have some one else express her own thought.

“Yes; don’t you? It is the only way to wipe our escutcheon clear. Don’t you agree with us, Miss Dean? We should all stand together in a matter of this kind. We can only guess as to why such a team was picked in the first place. Good players ignored and ‘flunks’ taken on, with the exception of Robin. Miss Reid, I understand, favors a certain element of students here. The management of the sports is in her hands, but it should not be. It really belongs to the senior sports committee. I hear, that, for two or three years, they have been positive figureheads. She has done all the managing. It is time there was a change.”

“Two of the senior committee did not care much, I believe. The manager, Miss Clement, told me that she was simply overruled. She objected, but that was all the good it did,” informed Blanche Scott.

Portia had gone on talking, without giving Marjorie a chance to agree with her. She now laughingly apologized and again solicited an opinion.

“I think a new team should be chosen,” Marjorie said evenly. Her eyes were sparkling in the darkness like twin stars. Here, at last, were girls like the Lookouts. She was so glad that the matter was to be taken up and threshed out she could have shouted. A definite blow for democracy was about to be struck at Hamilton. “My friends and I thought the try-out very unfair. We are considered good players at home, but we were not even chosen to sub.”

She went on a little further to explain why, in her estimation, the team chosen were so unfit for the responsibility. Her short talk proved conclusively that she understood basket ball as only an expert could.

“Won’t you and Miss Harding please enter the lists again, when we have the new try-out?” coaxed Elaine Hunter.

“No.” Marjorie’s refusal was quietly emphatic. “Not this year. I am willing to do all I can to help the good work along, but I don’t care to play. Muriel feels the same. Next year we hope to make the team. There are some good players among the freshmen who had no chance at the try-out. I would like to see them play. I would like to see Miss Page play center. She plays a wonderful game.”

“Thank you.” Walking beside Marjorie, Robin gave her arm a grateful little squeeze. “You and I are going to be great friends,” she laughed. “How did you guess my pet ambition?”

“I didn’t guess it. I only said what I thought about it. You deserve the position.”

“Yes; and she is going to have it, if there is any such thing as fair play at Hamilton, and I think there is.” Portia Graham spoke with a sternness that presaged action. “After dinner, tonight, I am going to call a meeting in the back parlor. We can all get into that room without crowding. Then we will see what happens.” True to her word, Portia saw to it, the moment she reached the Hall, that every freshman in the house was notified of the meeting.

The ringing of the dinner gong shortly afterward was a pleasing sound to the hungry girls. Dinner at Silverton Hall was served at two long tables set lengthwise in a pretty green and white dining room. The Lookouts found the meal as appetizing as any they had eaten at Wayland Hall, though no better. They liked the line-up of merry girls, with most of whom they now had some acquaintance.

Dessert did not receive its usual attention that night. The excited freshmen finished their dinners in some haste and promptly repaired to the back parlor. The same thirty-five who had walked five abreast across the campus were gathered again for action. While the murmur of conversation, mingled with frequent laughter, went on until Portia Graham took up her station near the old-fashioned fireplace where she could be seen and heard. Immediately the buzzing subsided, to be succeeded by a total silence.

Her freshman honor stung by the whitewashing the freshman team had received, she made an address that came straight from her injured feelings. It was not long, but it was convincing and evoked loud approbation. Her suggestion was that a letter of protest be written to Miss Reid and signed by every freshman in sympathy with the movement.

“That excludes four members of the team and a few of their supporters, but we can’t help that,” she said. “I think a committee of three had best draw up the letter. Then it can be passed around for approval and signatures. Be very sure to read it carefully. This letter is going to make Miss Reid very angry, for she will have to know that we considered her methods unfair. I do not believe she will take up the matter with Doctor Matthews. If she should, we will stand our ground. We are going to stamp out favoritism if we can. After the letter leaves here with our signatures it will be handed to the freshmen at Acasia House. I will obtain their signatures. There are six at Wayland Hall and all are in sympathy. That leaves about twenty-four, including the team. The majority of the twenty besides the team are doubtful. Elaine, I am going to ask you and Miss Dean if you will accept the delicate task of obtaining the signatures of any of the twenty whom you think are with us.”

“I will do the best I can. That is no simple undertaking, Portia Graham,” Elaine reminded, her gentle face rather blank at the mission. Marjorie also looked a trifle anxious. Then her face cleared and she expressed her willingness to comply with Portia’s request.

Jerry’s lips puckered as though about to emit a whistle when she heard Portia commission the two freshmen to the difficult task. She was about to set Portia hastily down in her mind as on the order of a shirker. She had passed the hardest task to some one else. Then it suddenly dawned upon her that, among the freshmen, there were no two better able to diplomatically perform that task than Marjorie and Elaine.