The Camp Fire Girls at School by Hildegard G. Frey

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Marie Lanning also knew that it was Sahwah she would have to deal with.
But there was a difference in the attitude of the girls toward each
other. Sahwah regarded Marie as her opponent, but she respected her
prowess. She had no personal resentment against Marie for being a good
guard; she looked upon her as an enemy merely because she belonged to a
rival school. Marie on the other hand actually hated Sahwah. Before
Sahwah appeared on the scene she had been the greatest player in the
Athletic Association, the heroine of every game. She was pointed out
everywhere she went as "Marie Lanning, the basketball player." Now some
of her glory was dimmed, for another star had risen, Sarah Ann Brewster,
the whirlwind forward of the Washington High team, was threatening to
overshadow her. It was a distinctly personal matter with her. Sahwah
wanted to win that game so her school would have the championship; Marie
wanted to win it for her own glory. She did not really believe that
Sahwah was as great as she was made out. It was only because she had
never run against a great guard that she had been able to roll up the
score for Washington so many times. Well, she would find out a thing or
two when she played the Mechanicals, Marie reflected complacently. She
had never seen Sahwah play, and if any one had suggested that it would
be a good thing to watch her tactics she would have been very scornful.
She was confident in her own powers.

Then there came a rather important game of Washington High's on a night
when Marie was visiting her cousin Joe. He had tickets for the game and
took her along. Now for the first time she beheld her foe. After
watching Sahwah's marvelous shots at the basket and the confusion of the
girl who was guarding her, Marie began to feel uneasy. It now seemed to
her that Sahwah's powers had been underestimated in the reports instead
of over-estimated. The game ended just as all the others had done, with
a great score for Washington High and Sahwah the idol of the hour. Marie
looked on with a slight sneer when Sahwah, after the game was over,
frankly congratulated the losing team on their playing, which had been
pretty good throughout. "Do you know," said Sahwah straightforwardly,
"that if you had had a little better team work, I don't believe we could
have beaten you."

"Any day we could have won with you in the game," said one of the
losers, "the way you can shoot that ball into the basket."

Without being at all puffed up by this compliment, Sahwah proceeded to
make her point. "My throwing the ball into the basket wasn't what won
the game," she said simply, "it was the fact that I had it to throw.
It's all due to the girls who see that I get it. It's team work that
wins every time and not individual starring." Thus was Sahwah in the
habit of disclaiming the credit of victory.

Joe brought up Marie Lanning and introduced her. "So this is my deadly
enemy," said Sahwah pleasantly. Marie acknowledged the introduction
politely, but while her lips smiled her eyes had a steely glitter.
Sahwah was surrounded by a crowd of admiring friends at this time and
there was no chance for further conversation, and she did not become
aware of Marie's animosity. "We'll meet again," Sahwah said meaningly,
with a pleasant laugh, as Marie and Joe turned to go. "That is," she
added with a humorous twinkle, "if I don't go down in my studies and get
myself debarred from playing."

"Fine chance of your going down," said Joe.

"Oh, I don't know," laughed Sahwah; "it all depends on whether I get my
Physics notebook in by the First." A shout of laughter greeted this
remark. The idea of Sahwah's getting herself debarred on account of her
studies was too funny for words.

"Well," said Joe to Marie when they were outside the building, "that's
the girl you're going to have to play against. What do you think of
her?" In his heart Joe thought that his cousin Marie would have no
trouble holding Sahwah down.

"She's a great deal faster than I thought," said Marie with a thoughtful
frown.

"But you can beat her, can't you?" asked Joe anxiously. "You've got to.
I've staked my whole winter's allowance that you would win the
championship."

"I didn't know that you were in the habit of betting," said Marie a
little disdainfully.

"I never did before," said Joe, "but some of the fellows were saying
that nobody could hold out against that Brewster girl and I said I bet
my cousin could, and so we talked back and forth until I offered to bet
real money on you."

Marie was flattered at this, as her kind would be. "I can beat her," she
said, but there was fear in her heart. "Oh, if she would only be
debarred from the game!" she exclaimed eagerly.

But Sahwah had no intentions of being put out on that score. She applied
herself assiduously to the making of the notebook that was required as
the resume of the half year's work. She finished it a whole day ahead of
time, and then, Sahwah-like, was so pleased with herself that she
decided to celebrate the event. "Come over to the house to-night," she
said to various of her girl and boy friends in school that day. "I'm
entertaining in honor of my Physics notebook!"

When the guests arrived the notebook was enthroned on a gilded easel on
the parlor table and decorated with a wreath of flowers and a card
bearing the inscription "Endlich!" The very ridiculousness of the whole
affair was enough to make every one have a good time. The Winnebagos
were there, and some of their brothers and cousins, and Dick Albright
and Joe Lanning and several more boys from the class. Naturally much of
the conversation turned on the coming game, and Sahwah was solemnly
assured that she would forfeit their friendship forever if she did not
win the championship for the school. School spirit ran high and songs
and yells were practiced until the neighbors groaned. Joe Lanning joined
in the yells with as much vigor as any. No one knew that he was secretly
on the side of the Mechanicals.

Sahwah's notebook came in for inspection and much admiration, for she
was good at Physics and her drawings were to be envied. "I see you have
a list of all the problems the class has done this year," said Dick
Albright, looking through the notebook. "Do you mind if I copy them from
your list? I lost the one Fizzy gave us in class and it'll take me all
night to pick them out from the ones in the book."

"Certainly, you may," said Sahwah cordially. "Take it along with you and
bring it to school in the morning. It'll be all right as long as I get
it in by that time. But don't forget it, whatever you do, unless you
want to see me put out of the game." Joe Lanning wished fervently that
Dick would forget to bring it. The party broke up and the boys and girls
prepared to depart.

"What car do you take, Dick?" asked one of the boys.

"I don't think I'll take any," said Dick. "I'll just run around the
corner with this lady," he said, indicating Migwan, "and then I'll walk
the rest of the way."

"Isn't it pretty far?" asked some one else.

"Not the way I go," answered Dick. "I take the short cut through the
railway tunnel." Joe Lanning's eyes gleamed suddenly.

The good-nights were all said and Sahwah shut the door and set the
furniture straight before she went to bed. "Didn't your friends stay
rather late?" asked her mother from upstairs.

"No," said Sahwah, "I don't think so, it's only--why, the clock has
stopped," she finished after a look at the mantel, "I don't know what
time it is."

"Get the time from the telephone operator," said her mother, "and set
the clock."

Sahwah picked up the receiver. There was a strange buzzing noise on the
wire. "Zig-a-zig, ziz-zig-zig-a-zig, zig-g-g, zig-g-g, zig-g-g-g."
Puzzled at first, she soon recognized what it was. It was the sound of
Joe Lanning's wireless. Joe lived directly back of Sahwah on the next
street, and the aerial of his wireless apparatus was fastened to the
telephone pole in the Brewsters' yard. Joe was "sending," and the
vibrations were being picked up by the telephone wires and carried to
her ear when she had the receiver down. Sahwah understood the wireless
code the boys used, and, in fact, had both sent and received messages.
She knew it was Joe's custom to listen for the time every night as it
was flashed out from the station at Arlington, and then send it to his
friend Abraham Goldstein, a young Jewish lad in the class, who also had
a wireless. Then the two would send each other messages and verify them
the next day. "Oh, what fun," thought Sahwah; "I can get Arlington time
to-night." She asked the operator to look up a new number for her to
keep her off the line and then got out paper and pencil to take down the
message as it went out. As she deciphered it she gasped in astonishment.
She had expected a message something on this order: "Hello, Abraham--how
are you?--Arlington says ten bells--How's the weather in your neck of
the woods?" Instead the words were entirely different. She could not
believe her eyes as she made them out. "Albright going through railway
tunnel--hold him up--get notebook away--keep Brewster out of game." Her
senses reeled as she understood the meaning of the message. That Joe was
plotting against her when he pretended to be a friend cut her to the
quick. For a moment her lip quivered; then her nature asserted itself.
There was a thing to do and she must do it. Dick must be kept from going
through the tunnel. Turning out the lights downstairs, she crept
noiselessly out of the house, found her brother's bicycle on the porch
and pedaled off after Dick. She knew exactly the way he would take. From
Migwan's house he would go up Adams to Locust Street and from there to
----th Avenue, and keep on going until he came to the dark tunnel.
Sahwah nearly burst with indignation when she thought of Joe's cowardly
conduct. He was calmly getting Abraham to do the dirty work for him, so
he would never be suspected of having anything to do with it in case
Dick recognized Abraham. She could see how the thing would work out.
Abraham lived just the other side of the tunnel. All he would have to do
would be to stand in the shadow of the tunnel, jump out on Dick as he
came through, seize the notebook from his hand, and run away before Dick
knew what had happened. There would be no need of fighting or hurting
him. But Joe's end would be accomplished and Washington would lose the
game. The fact that he was a traitor to the school hurt Sahwah ten times
worse than the injury he was trying to do her. "Even if his cousin _is_
on the other side, he belongs to Washington," she repeated over and over
to herself.

Down Locust Street she flew and along deserted ----th Avenue. It was
bitterly cold riding, but she took no notice. Far ahead of her she could
see Dick walking briskly toward the fatal tunnel. Pedaling for dear life
she caught up with him when he was still some distance from it.
"Whatever is the matter?" he asked, startled, as she flung herself
breathless from the wheel beside him.

"The notebook," she said. "Joe's trying to get it away from you. He's
got Abraham Goldstein waiting in the tunnel to snatch it as you go by."

Dick gave vent to a long whistle of astonishment. "Of all the underhand
tricks!" he exclaimed when the full significance of Joe's act was borne
in on him. He was stupefied to think that Joe was a traitor to the
school. "That'll fix his chances of getting into the _Thessalonians_,"
he said vehemently. "His name is coming up next week to be voted on.
Just wait until I tell what I know about him!"

Dick retraced his steps and took Sahwah home, where he left the precious
notebook in her keeping to prevent any possibility of its getting lost
before she could hand it in, and then took the streetcar and rode home
the roundabout way, arriving there in safety. Abraham waited out in the
cold tunnel for several hours and then gave it up and went home, feeling
decidedly out of temper with Joe Lanning and his intrigues.

The game was held in the Washington High gymnasium. The gallery and all
available floor space were packed long before the commencement of the
game. The Carnegie Mechanics came out in a body to witness their team
win the championship. Joe Lanning was there, entirely composed, though
inwardly raging at the failure of his trick, which he attributed to
Dick's changing his mind about walking home, never dreaming that Sahwah
had intercepted his message and his treachery was known. Although his
sympathies were with the Mechanicals he stood with the Washingtons and
yelled their yells as loudly as any. The Mechanicals, as the visiting,
team, came out on the floor first and had the first practice. They were
fine looking girls, every one of them, with their dazzling white middies
and blue ties. They were greeted with a ringing cheer from their
rooters:

"_Me_-chan-i,
_Me_-chan-i,
_Me_-chan-i-can-can,
_Me_-chan-i-can-can,
Me-chan-i-cals!"

Marie Lanning held up her head and looked self-conscious when she heard
the familiar yell thundered at the team. It was meant mostly for
herself, she was sure. She smiled proudly and graciously in the
direction whence the yell had proceeded. Quiet had hardly fallen on the
crowd when there was heard the sound of singing from the upper end of
the gymnasium where the door to the dressing rooms was. The tune was
"Old Black Joe":

"We're coming, we're coming,
Star players, every one,
We're going to win the championship
For Washington!"

Washington's rooters caught up the yell and made the roof ring. Sahwah's
heart swelled when she heard it, not with the feeling that they were
singing to her, but with pride because she belonged to a team which
called out this expression of loyalty. Then came individual cheers, with
her name at the head of the list.

"One, two, _three_, four,
Who are _we_ for?
BREWSTER!"

Not even then was Sahwah puffed up.

The Washington High team wore black bloomers and red ties; they were a
brilliant sight as they marched in with their hands on each other's
shoulders. The teams took their places; a hush fell on the crowd; the
referee's whistle sounded; the ball went up. Washington's center knocked
it toward her basket; Sahwah, darting out from under the basket, caught
it, sent it flying back to center; center threw it to the other
Washington forward; Sahwah jumped directly behind Marie Lanning,
received the ball from the other forward and shot the basket. Time, one
minute from the sending up of the ball. The Washington team machine was
working splendidly. A deafening roar greeted the first score. Marie bit
her lip angrily. She had vowed to keep Washington from scoring. But
Sahwah had not watched Marie play for nothing. She saw that she put up a
wonderful guard when confronting her girl, but she was not always quick
in turning around. Sahwah's plan of action was to keep away from her as
much as possible and to get hold of the ball when she was behind Marie's
back and throw for the basket before Marie could turn around. Guarding
is only effective when you have some one to guard and Marie discovered
she was really playing a game of tag with Sahwah, who was continually
running away from her. With the wonderful team work which the Washington
team had developed and their perfect understanding of each other's
movements, Sahwah could get widely separated from Marie and be sure to
receive the ball at just the right moment to throw a basket. Twice she
made it; three times; four times. Pandemonium reigned. "Guard her,
Marie!" shrieked the Mechanicals.

The score stood 8 to in favor of Washington at the end of the first five
minutes. Marie was white with rage. Was this a girl she was trying to
guard, or was it an eel? She would get her cornered with the ball,
Sahwah would measure Marie's height with her eye, locate the basket with
a brief glance, stiffen her muscles for a jump, and then as Marie stood
ready to beat down the ball, as it rose in the air, Sahwah would
suddenly relax, twist into some inconceivable position, shoot the ball
low to center and be a dozen feet away before Marie could get her hands
down from the air.

"B-R-E,
DOUBLE-U, S,
T-E-R,
BREWSTER!"

sang the Washington rooters in ecstasy. It was maddening. There was no
hope of keeping her from scoring. The time came when Sahwah and Marie
both had their hands on the ball at the same time and it called for a
toss-up. As the ball rose in the air Marie struck out as if to send it
flying to center, but instead of that, her hand, clenched, with a heavy
ring on one finger, struck Sahwah full on the nose. It was purely
accidental, as every one could see. Sahwah staggered back dizzily,
seeing stars. Her nose began to bleed furiously. She was taken from the
game and her substitute put in. A groan went up from the Washington
students as she was led out, followed by a suppressed cheer from the
Carnegie Mechanics. Marie met Joe's eye with a triumphant gleam in her
own.

Sahwah was beside herself at the thing which had happened to her. The
game and the championship were lost to Washington. The hope of the team
was gone. The girl who took her place was far inferior, both in skill in
throwing the ball and in tactics. She could not make a single basket.
The score rolled up on the Mechanicals' side; now it was tied. Sahwah,
trying to stanch the blood that flowed in a steady stream, heard the
roar that followed the tying of the score and ground her teeth in
misery. The Mechanicals were scoring steadily now. The first half ended
12 to 8 in their favor. But if Marie had expected to be the heroine of
the game now that Sahwah was out of it she was disappointed. The girl
who had taken Sahwah's place required no skilful guarding; she would not
have made any baskets anyhow, and there was no chance for a brilliant
display of Marie's powers. Marie stood still on the floor after the
first half ended, listening to the cheers and expecting her name to be
shouted above the rest, but nothing like that happened. The yells were
for the team in general, while the Washingtons, loyal to Sahwah to the
last, cheered her to the echo.

The noise penetrated to the dressing room where she lay on a mat:

"Ach du lieber lieber,
Ach du lieber lieber,
BREWSTER! No, ja, bum bum!
Ach du lieber lieber,
Ach du lieber lieber,
BREWSTER! No, ja!"

Sahwah raised her head. Another cheer rent the air:

"B-R-E,
DOUBLE-U, S,
T-E-R,
BREWSTER!"

Sahwah sat up.

"BREWSTER! BREWSTER! WE WANT BREWSTER!" thundered the gallery. Sahwah
sprang to her feet. Like a knight of old, who, expiring on the
battlefield, heard the voice of his lady love and recovered
miraculously, Sahwah regained her strength with a rush when she heard
the voice of her beloved school calling her.

When the teams came out for the second half Sahwah came out with them.
The gallery rocked with the joy of the Washingtonians. The whistle
sounded; the ball went up; the machine was in working order again.
Washington was jubilant; Carnegie Mechanics was equally confident now
that it was in the lead. Sahwah played like a whirlwind. She shot the
ball into the basket right through Marie's hands. Once! Twice! The score
was again tied. "12 to 12," shouted the scorekeeper through her
megaphone. Like the roar of the waves of the sea rose the yell of the
Washingtonians:

"Who tied the score when the score was rolling?
Who tied the score when the score was rolling?
Brewster, yes?
Well, I guess!
_She_ tied the score when the score was rolling!"

Then Sahwah's luck turned and she could make no more baskets. She began
to feel weak again and fumbled the ball more than once. Marie laughed
sneeringly when Sahwah failed to score on a foul. The game was drawing
to a close. "Two more minutes to play!" called the referee. The ball was
under the Mechanicals' basket. The Washington guards got possession of
it and passed it forward to Sahwah, who threw for the basket and missed.
The ball came down right in the hands of Marie. The Mechanicals were
excellently placed to pass it by several stages down to their basket.
Instead of throwing it to center, however, she tried to make a
grandstand play and threw it the entire length of the gymnasium to the
waiting forward. It fell short and there was a wild scramble to secure
it. Washington got it. "One minute to play!" called the referee. A score
must be made now by one side or the other or the game would end in a
tie. The Washington guard located Sahwah. The Mechanicals closed in
around her so that she could not get away by herself. Marie towered over
her triumphantly. At last had come the chance to use her famous method
of guarding. The crowd in the gallery leaned forward, tense and silent.
The Mechanicals' forwards ran back under their basket to be in position
to throw the ball in when Marie should send it down to them. The
Washington guard threw the ball toward the massed group in the center of
the floor. As a tiger leaps to its prey, Sahwah, with a mighty spring,
jumped high in the air and caught the ball over the heads of the
blocking guards. Before the Mechanicals had recovered from their
surprise she sent it whirling toward the distant basket. It rolled
around the rim, hesitated for one breathless instant and then dropped
neatly through the netting. It was a record throw from the field.

"Time's up," called the referee.

"Score, 14 to 12 in favor of Washington High," shouted the scorekeeper.

The pent-up emotions of the Washington rooters found vent in a prolonged
cheer; then the crowd surged across the floor and surrounded Sahwah, and
she was borne in triumph from the gymnasium.

Joe Lanning and his cousin Marie, avoiding the merry throng, left the
building with long faces and never a word to say.

CHAPTER IX.

THE THESSALONIAN PLAY.

It was the custom each year for the Thessalonians, the Boys' Literary
Society of Washington High School, to give a play in the school
auditorium. This year the play was to be a translation of Briand's
four-act drama, "Marie Latour." After a careful consideration of the
talents of their various girl friends, Gladys was asked to play the
leading role and Sahwah was also given a part in the cast. It was the
play where the unfortunate Marie Latour, pursued by enemies, hides her
child in a hollow statue of Joan of Arc. In order to produce the piece a
large statue of the Maid of Orleans was made to order. It was
constructed of some inexpensive composition and painted to look like
bronze. In the one scene a halo appears around the head of the Maid
while she is sheltering the child. This effect was produced by a circle
of tiny lights worked by a storage battery inside the statue. For the
sake of convenience in installing the electric apparatus and the wiring,
one half of the skirt--it was the statue representing Joan in woman's
clothes, not the one in armor--was made in the form of a door, which
opened on hinges. The base of the statue was of wood. It was not
finished until the day before the play and was used for the first time
at the dress rehearsal, when it was left standing on the stage.

Joe Lanning was in rather a dark mood these days. In the first place, he
had lost his winter's allowance of pocket money by staking it on the
Washington-Carnegie Mechanics game. After this he was treated coolly by
a large number of his classmates, and, not knowing that the story of his
treachery was being privately circulated around the school, he could not
guess the reason. The keenest desire of his life was to be made a member
of the Thessalonian Literary Society, and if he had kept his record
unsmirched he would have been taken in at the February election. He
confidently expected to be elected, and was already planning in his mind
the things he would do and say at the meetings, and what girls he would
take to the Thessalonian dances. He received a rude shock when the
election came and went and he was not taken in. He knew from reliable
sources that his name was coming up to be voted on, and it was not very
flattering to realize that he had been blackballed. From an eager
interest in all Thessalonian doings his feeling changed to bitter
resentment against the society. Just now the Thessalonian play was the
topic of the hour, and the very mention of it almost made him ill. If he
had been elected he would have been an usher at the play with the other
new members and worn the club colors in his buttonhole to be admired by
the girls and envied by the other fellows. But now there was none of
that charmed fellowship for him. He nourished his feeling of bitterness
and hatred until his scheming mind began to grope for some way of
spoiling the success of the play. As usual, he turned to his friend,
Abraham Goldstein, who was about the only one who had not shown any
coolness. Together they watched their chance. The play progressed toward
perfection, the dress rehearsal had been held, the day of the "First
Night" had arrived. The stage was set and the statue of the Maid of
Orleans was in place. Joe, poking around the back of the stage, saw the
statue and received his evil inspiration.

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