It is natural for the younger girls of a school to look up to those in the upper classes—for the freshmen to make one of the juniors or seniors her ideal; and it is likewise usual to find the younger girl admiring the older boys she happens to meet. Partly for this reason, perhaps, and partly because he was both genial and attractive, Ruth conceived a violent admiration for John Hadley. She had considered him the best-looking scout at the demonstration in January; now, after the party at the cabin, she admitted to herself that she was really “crazy about him.” True, she had not seen much of him at the party, for he sat beside Doris after the games were over; but she knew that Doris was pretty well smitten with Roger Harris, and did not allow the possibility of her interference to worry her. She had never heard Marjorie speak of him, and she had no idea that his interest lay in that direction.

She knew that this year was John’s last at the academy, so she planned to see more of him before it was too late.

“Why don’t you ask Jack to go over to Miss Martin’s to our basket-ball game with them, and take some of his friends?” asked Ruth of Marjorie, a week before the date for which the event was scheduled. “Miss Allen said the boys would be allowed to attend.”

“Oh, I don’t know; I’ve been too busy to think about it!”

Marjorie, because she was both tall and quick, had been chosen for the position of jumping-center on the school team. She had been going out regularly to the practices in the field (the girls at Miss Allen’s played out-door basket-ball), and she was in splendid trim for the game. Her cheeks glowed and her eyes sparkled while she played; had she been a vain girl, she would have realized that under no other circumstance could she appear so attractive.

“Go on—write to Jack!” pleaded Ruth. “Why, he’d love to see you play. Ask him to bring some of the other scouts!”

“But I wouldn’t be able to look after them! I’m in the game!”

“Of course—that’s why he ought to be allowed to come. I’ll entertain them, and ask Doris to help.” “All right,” agreed Marjorie. “Who else shall I suggest?”

“Roger Harris, of course, for Doris, and anybody else. How about the senior patrol leader—what was his name?”

Marjorie blushed. “John Hadley?”

“Yes; why not?”

“All right; but I guess I’ll tell Jack to take whoever he wants.”

The game was scheduled for the second Saturday in May. All of the girls on the team, except Marjorie, were Girl Scouts—Ethel Todd and Edith Evans played forward, Ada Mearns and Dorothy Maxwell were the guards, and Frances Wright acted as side center. Incidentally, Marjorie was the only freshman on the team, although one other girl of her own class served as a substitute.

Jack accepted his sister’s suggestion gladly; he wrote that he would arrive at Miss Martin’s school with John and Roger immediately after lunch.

Marjorie took the letter to Ruth. “It’s your party,” she said. “I won’t even be able to meet them. Miss Phillips is going to take us over early to get a chance to try the field; and then Miss Martin’s team is giving us a special lunch in their gym.”

“All right,” agreed Ruth; “I’ll look after them. By the way, is there any girl Jack specially likes, so I could invite her to go with Doris and me?”

Marjorie laughed. “I think he always ‘specially liked’ you, Ruth!”

“No, I mean somebody else. He met some of the girls at your dance.”

Marjorie tried to think. Finally she shook her head.

“I’m afraid there isn’t, Ruth; ask whoever else you please to sit with you. All I know is, I can’t!”

Ruth decided to ask Evelyn Hopkins. The latter had not made the Girl Scout troop; and in fact she had been left out of almost everything lately. Ruth felt sorry for her, and hoped by this invitation to make up for neglecting her during the past month or two.

Miss Martin sent over the request that the Girl Scouts wear their uniforms. Ruth was somewhat annoyed at the idea. “Who wants to dress up in a hot khaki suit this time of year?” she complained. But Miss Phillips had issued the order, and all the scouts had to obey.

Ruth, Doris, and Evelyn got permission to leave the rest of the students while they went in search of the boys. They met them at the gate, and Ruth introduced Evelyn.

Ruth had tried to arrange matters so that Jack would walk with Evelyn, and Roger with Doris, so that John Hadley would be left to accompany her. But her plans went wrong. John immediately attached himself to Doris, who had started on with Roger, so Evelyn and Ruth were both forced to walk with Jack.

When the party reached the basket-ball field, Ruth decided to take matters in her own hands.

“Mr. Hadley,” she said, laughing, “I am afraid I shall have to scold you. Can’t you see that Roger and Doris want to be together?”

“Oh, I beg their pardon!” said John apologetically. “I really forgot.”

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Doris. “Please don’t be silly!”

But they discovered that they could not all sit together, and Ruth saw to it that Doris and Roger took the seats ahead, and she and Evelyn sat between Jack and John. She smiled happily. At last she was with him.

All the Girl Scouts except Ruth and Doris, and those taking part in the game, occupied a bench together; in their neat, trim uniforms they presented an attractive appearance. John remarked about it, and Ruth saw him looking closely at the girls.

“Is Marjorie Wilkinson a member of the troop now?” he asked. Ruth laughed. “No, poor girl, she isn’t! It’s a shame, too, for she tries so hard. But she’s hopeless in Latin!”

John sighed, thinking of his remaining month at Episcopal. “I’ll never see her again,” he kept thinking to himself, “unless I suddenly develop a violent friendship with Jack!”

The referee blew the whistle and the contestants appeared. The forwards grouped themselves around the baskets, and practiced throwing for goals; the rest of the girls gathered in separate spots to go over a few last points.

Marjorie realized that she was a different girl from the one who had played forward on the hockey-team last fall. She came to this game with Miss Martin’s in perfect physical condition, and with the consciousness of good practices behind her. And, added to this, she felt a new love for Miss Phillips; she knew how much her teacher cared for the victory, and she meant to do all in her power to win it.

John regarded her all the while intently; he scarcely listened to the conversation Ruth and Evelyn were holding with Jack.

In a few moments the game started. Marjorie had the advantage of being taller than the opposing center; besides this, she had arranged for signals with Frances and her forwards, so that her efforts in getting the ball to her team immediately after the toss-up were almost always successful.

With this advantage, the audience thought the game was going to prove to be a walk-over for Miss Allen’s team. But such was not the case. The guards who played against Ethel and Edith were splendid; they succeeded in keeping the forwards from scoring for nearly five minutes, at the end of which time they finally sent the ball to the other end of the field.

But if the guards on Miss Martin’s team had been good, those on Miss Allen’s proved equally efficient. Again, these forwards were powerless. The only real chance that was given to Miss Martin’s side to score was when Dorothy Maxwell made a foul, and gave the forward a free throw; but the girl missed the basket, the whistle blew, and the score remained 0–0.

During the intermission, the spectators cheered loudly for both sides, and the Gym teachers encouraged and coached their girls. Each team went back to the field with the grim determination to win.

The forwards put even more energy into their playing; but the guards on both sides opposed them the more zealously. During the first ten minutes each side threw a successful foul, so that the score now stood at one all. When Marjorie realized that the time was almost up, she grew desperate. Giving Frances a new signal, which she had agreed to use only in case of the greatest necessity, she made a quick dodge away from the opposing center, and, at the very edge of the line, made a wild throw at the goal. But she missed it, and stepped slightly over the line; the referee called a foul, and Miss Martin’s girls scored a point on the ensuing free throw. The home team was ahead. A wild shout arose from the enthusiastic spectators.

But Marjorie was not to be daunted by one failure; her forwards had proved themselves unable to dodge their guards and score; she would try a second time. Accordingly, she gave the same signal to Frances again, and, quick as a flash, leapt away from her opponent. Keeping her eye on the line that she might not overstep it, she made another flying shot. The ball sped high over the heads of the girls who rushed to defend the basket; for an instant a hush came over the field as all eyes watched it describe a graceful arc and fall straight through the goal,—a perfect shot. Then the silence was broken—not only Miss Allen’s girls; everyone on the benches clapped; it was a spectacular play, and it brought victory. In less than a minute, the whistle blew; and the score-board registered 3–2, in favor of Miss Allen’s team.

Ruth breathed a long sigh, and John wiped the perspiration from his forehead. “By George!” he exclaimed, “that was the most exciting game I ever saw! Wasn’t Marjorie wonderful?”

At this moment a yell arose for Marjorie, and it was then that Ruth realized her mistake in having John Hadley asked to attend the game. But it was too late now to regret her action. Instead, she discreetly joined in the other girl’s praises.

Her party followed the crowd across the campus to the gym where tea was being served. John looked anxiously for Marjorie, but she had been too much exhausted to appear. Everyone was clamoring for her—the heroine of the day.

“And they say she isn’t even a Girl Scout!” Ruth heard one of Miss Martin’s girls remark to her companions. “She’s such a peach, too! I wonder why!”

Ruth frowned. “Yes, everybody else wonders why, too!” she thought. “Oh, I’m sick of hearing the praises of Marjorie Wilkinson. But I’m even with her!”

Ruth was relieved to hear Miss Martin ask the Girl Scouts to give a demonstration; she stepped forward proudly, glad of the chance to assume again the center of attraction. But Ruth was not happy as she rode home that evening. Outwardly, her plans had all succeeded; but she was not at peace. She knew that she was as much of a thief as the common burglar who breaks into the house at night and steals the silverware; she had stolen Marjorie’s happiness, and she was paying for her act—she had lost her own.