The Girl Scouts' Good Turn Part 9

For Frieda Hammer had again been antagonized!

CHAPTER VIII

THE HOCKEY TEAM

"Marjorie!"

Lily Andrews, entering the room, found it necessary to speak twice before she aroused the attention of her room-mate, who was seated on her couch, idly fingering the geometry book she was supposed to be studying, and looking into s.p.a.ce. Lily could not remember when she had seen her look so dejected. But she had a piece of news that she thought would bring a smile to Marjorie's lips.

"Miss Phillips wants you!"

"She does! What for?" This, eagerly.

"Oh, I don't know--hockey, or something, I guess!"

The look of happiness died from Marjorie's face. She seemed tremendously disappointed. Lily looked at her questioningly; heretofore, the girl had always been delighted to be summoned by her favorite teacher, for no matter what purpose.

"What's the matter, Marj?"

"Nothing; only I hoped that maybe it had something to do with Scouts."

"With Scouts?"

"Well--with Frieda, then!" This explanation was given rather grudgingly, and with a greater degree of impatience than she was wont to use with Lily.

"Didn't you tell me you hoped she'd come to the j.a.panese fete, Marj?"

pursued the other.

"Yes; and she did come!"

"But I didn't see her!"

"Well, then you missed her, that's all." Marjorie arose from her seat, as if to end a very distasteful conversation.

But Lily was not through.

"Marj, is it true that you gave her your pink dress?"

"Yes, it is."

"Oh, I'm so glad!" cried Lily, in the most relieved tone. "Ruth saw Frieda wearing it--and your sweater besides--and she said Frieda stole it!"

"And you believed that!" Marjorie's eyes flashed in anger. "Oh, Lil, how could you?"

"Well, you didn't tell me; and you know she did steal before. So Ruth thought probably----"

"Ruth Henry makes me sick!" exclaimed Marjorie, now tried to the utmost.

"And I'll bet she got you to pump me----"

"No, not exactly," replied Lily, a little ashamed of her questions; "but we were both curious to know."

Marjorie shook her head with disgust, and resolved to say nothing further.

"Where is Miss Phillips?" she asked.

"In her office."

"Thanks."

Without another word, she left the room, and went straight to the gymnasium.

"Good afternoon!" said Miss Phillips, pleasantly, as Marjorie entered the little office; "sit down here. I want to talk about the hockey squad."

"Yes, of course," murmured Marjorie, making a great effort to collect her thoughts and show an interest in the conversation.

"And I consulted you first," continued Miss Phillips, "because you have been at practice most faithfully, and played the best of anyone since the beginning of the term."

The compliment, which should have brought happiness to the girl, only touched her lightly; she hardly acknowledged it with a weak smile.

Picking up a pencil, she ran the thick end along the edge of the desk, as if she were giving the teacher only a small part of her attention.

Miss Phillips noticed and was annoyed, but she said nothing. She realized that even the loveliest characters experience perverse moods.

"I have decided on yourself, Ruth Henry, Ethel Todd, Frances Wright, and Mae VanHorn for forwards; Edith Evans and Marian Guard for two of the half-backs, and Lily Andrews for goal. That leaves one half-back and two full-backs yet to be chosen, and I think we ought to have about five subst.i.tutes. Now whom do you suggest? Let's think of each cla.s.s in turn."

Marjorie concentrated her attention upon the matter at hand, and thought hard.

"Is Helen Stewart's ankle all right by now?" she asked. The latter, who was to have been the heroine in the play at the last Commencement, had sprained her ankle the day that the Scouts had entertained a group of settlement children, and had been obliged to give up athletics for a while. Apparently, however, she was all right now.

"Yes; but it isn't very strong. Suppose we put her as one of the subst.i.tutes?"

"All right," agreed Marjorie.

"And there's n.o.body else in the senior cla.s.s."

"No."

"Nor in the junior. Ada Mearns could play well, if she would only try, but she won't bother. Now what do you think about your own cla.s.s?"

"Could Doris Sands possibly----?"

"Marjorie!" reproved Miss Phillips. "You're letting your personal feelings enter into the consideration. Doris Sands is very sweet and very capable, but--she's no hockey player!"

"That's true," admitted Marjorie. "Well, how about Evelyn Hopkins? She never seems to get anything."

But again the teacher shook her head. "Evelyn doesn't go about things right," she answered. "Individually, she's a good player, but she's miserable in team work. Evelyn plays selfishly."