After dinner, Peggy Allison seized Jean by the arm and insisted that they go up on the hill to see if the lists of basket-ball candidates were posted. Jean knew in her heart that her name would not be among them, for the one fast rule of Ashton was that no girl was considered eligible for athletic contests unless her work was satisfactory in every department. For a moment she wanted to refuse Peggy, but she felt she must know about her disappointment sooner or later, and she might as well tell her now. So they walked slowly over to the gym and Peggy found Jean very quiet.
"What's the matter, Jean? What's troubling you?"
"Nothing, except I'm awfully disgusted with myself and you will be, too, for you aren't going to find my name among the basket-ball[225] candidates. I didn't pass in my French, so of course I can't play. I knew all along it was going to be a toss-up whether I'd get through or not, but I hoped that lately I'd done well enough to make up for my poor beginning. However, I've made up my mind to one thing, and that is if I can't try for the basket-ball team I'll do something here before I leave."
"That's the proper spirit, Jean. I'm awfully sorry about your French, but every one admits that Mlle. Franchant is the hardest marker in college and flunks more freshmen than all the other profs together. But there's tennis left for you in the spring and the big tournament in June. Why don't you try to take the championship away from Natalie?"
"Oh, I couldn't beat her, but I'll go into the tournament if my French is all right. I'll study it morning, noon, and night and I'll pass it, too, for I've made up my mind. I'm not going over to basket-ball practice any more. Not that I'm grouchy because I can't play, but I'm going to put that time into studying. I'll be the very greasiest grind you ever saw, with[226] a towel around my throbbing head as I burn the midnight oil night after night and drive my little room-mate to distraction. Speaking of Elizabeth, do you know, she's doing splendid work in oratory. In class last week she astonished every one. She gave that little poem 'Carcasson,' and when she had finished, Miss Moulton said, 'Excellent, Miss Fairfax, I'm going to ask you to give that to us again next week; it's something for us to anticipate.' And Elizabeth told me afterward that when class was dismissed that day 'Moultie' stopped her and congratulated her and told her she hoped she would enter prize speaking. Elizabeth said that she shouldn't think of such a thing, for in the first place she would never dare to get up in the chapel before every one, and in the second place she hadn't the time to put into it. But later on I'm going to try to persuade her to enter, and I think she will."
"I hope she will, Jean. Look at those girls around the bulletin board. We'll never get within a mile of it."
"Oh, yes, we will, Peg; wait a minute," and before they realized it both girls were[227] gazing at the long list of names. There were two Merton House girls among them, Anne Cockran for the freshmen, and Sallie Lawrence for the sophomores, and as Jean saw their names she hid her own disappointment by saying gayly, "Oh, isn't it splendid that there are two Merton girls? I hope they'll make the teams. Won't it be exciting to have the two rivals in the house before the game?"
"Oh, Jean, you'll find excitement enough before the game and after it, too, for from now on there'll be plenty of spirit between you freshies and the sophs. Be on the watch, for you never can tell what the sophs will do next. You must be particularly careful about your flags and the class banquet, for those are the really great tests of strength or weakness of the freshmen class. Who's your chairman of the flag committee?"
"Florence Cummings, over in North, and I'm fortunate or unfortunate enough, whichever you consider it, to be on the committee with four others. We haven't met yet, but I think there's a meeting next week."
"Well, it's a mighty hard committee to[228] serve on, and I don't envy you one bit. I hope you'll come out all right and win and float your flags, but make up your mind for some excitement." The two girls spent the rest of the afternoon walking over to Lookout Hill and the conversation changed from basket-ball and class rivalry to everything imaginable which could interest two such wide-awake college girls.
Classes settled down again after the excitement of midyear's, and if there were heartaches and bitter disappointments most of them were covered up with good resolutions and hard work. The girls who had failed and were obliged to return home were missed for a little and then forgotten. The seniors were realizing that it was their last half-year and were crowding as much as possible into it; the juniors seemed to be devoting themselves to social activities; and the lower classes were developing class spirit and two rival basket-ball teams.
It had been a custom from time immemorial at Ashton to have an annual basket-ball game between the freshmen and sophomores to decide[229] which class might carry its flags for the rest of the year at all college events. If the freshmen were defeated in the game they gave up their flags to the sophomores, and if the sophomores were defeated they gave their flags to the freshmen. For several days before the game, and especially the one immediately preceding, each class strove to have one of its flags in some conspicuous place where it could remain without being hauled down by the rival class. It always took carefully laid plans on the part of the freshmen, and great precaution in executing them to outwit the wily sophs, and few freshmen classes could boast among their victories the successful raising of their flag. Then after the basket-ball game, as soon as possible, the freshman class held a banquet, either to celebrate its victory or find consolation in its defeat. If the sophomores could prevent the banquet from taking place, all the more glory for them, and they watched and plotted and made life miserable for the anxious freshmen.
Classes come and classes go, but customs live on forever, and 1914 and 1915 were no exceptions[230] to the rule and had made great preparations for the fray. Jean Cabot and the other members of the flag committee held secret meetings for days and days at Edith McAllister's house. When Edith came to Ashton, her mother, being the only other member of her family, had come with her and hired a small house in the shadow of the college where the two lived happily together. Mrs. McAllister had a sewing machine and could help the girls with their sewing. They had over a hundred and fifty small flags to make in order that every girl in the class might have one to carry to the game, besides several large ones to display in the gymnasium. The college color was blue, and 1915 had chosen white as its class color, so the numerals, 1915, were to be of white and sewed on the blue background. The flags were made of cheese-cloth and had to be cut out and hemmed and then the numerals were to be stitched on. Only a few of the girls knew how to run a sewing machine, so it took some time to get them done.
But at last they were finished and the next[231] thing was to know what to do with them, for if one of the sophs scented them out and captured them they were lost forever and the freshmen disgraced. Finally it was decided to lock them in a small trunk which belonged to Mrs. McAllister, and the trunk was to be placed in the attic and the door locked and the two keys put on a ribbon and worn round Mrs. McAllister's neck night and day. The one flag which the freshmen hoped to fly before the game was entrusted to the chairman, Florence Cummings, who sewed it on to her petticoat the day she carried it to her dormitory. All the other flags, however, were to remain in their hiding-place until the day of the game.
Each dormitory had girls from both classes to act as spies and watch all proceedings and report suspicious actions to a general committee. Jean was chosen from the freshman class in Merton and found her hands full. On the day before the game, very early in the morning, it was whispered around the Hill that the sophomore flag was flying in the middle of the "Pond," as the girls called the[232] small open reservoir, just back of the college buildings, which supplied a neighboring city with water. It did not take long for the rumors to be verified, and in a few moments nearly every girl in college had been to the "Pond" to see the small blue and orange flag floating in the water. There was much speculation as to how it could have been placed there, for the water, which was some ten feet below the surface of the ground, was held in by solid walls of masonry which seemed impossible to scale. But there was the flag, holding its head as high as any of the sophs who said nothing, but went about their recitations with a satisfied smile upon their faces which seemed to say, "You see our flag; well, get it if you can."
The freshmen said nothing, but one could see disappointment on every face. The flag committee held an animated session at Mrs. McAllister's and then started out to work. Not a sign of a freshman flag all day long and apparently there was to be no attempt to remove the sophomore one, for to the casual observer that seemed impossible. There was[233] not a boat nor a ladder, nor a rope anywhere in evidence around the "Pond," and the grumbly old watchman sat in his little box of a house at the northwest corner placidly smoking his pipe as though nothing had happened, all the while refusing to offer any suggestions to the numberless inquiries which poured in upon him. At nightfall the flag was still where it had been all day and the lofty sophs felt the victory was theirs, for the freshmen, to all appearances, had given up the attempt to capture it. There was tense excitement in all the dormitories during supper and the early hours of the evening, but it seemed to subside a little as bedtime approached.
As Elizabeth and Jean turned out their lights and crept into bed, Elizabeth said, "Isn't it a shame, Jean, to be defeated at the very outset? It looks bad for the game in spite of all belief in signs. They say the even-year classes never are lucky, you know. Aren't you tired after such a strenuous day? I for one will be glad when the suspense is all over and the game is won or lost. You'll be[234] worn to a thread if you do much more running around."
"Yes, I am tired, Beth; but it's worth while working for the class. Luck does seem against us now, but don't give up yet; there's plenty of time for things to happen. Good night," and Jean turned on her pillow as though to sleep.
Shortly after twelve o'clock, if one had been looking she might have seen girls hurrying from the different dormitories in the direction of Mrs. McAllister's house. On the small porch stood Edith and her mother ready to welcome the girls. "Come into the house and drink some hot coffee before we start, for it's bitter cold in spite of the fact that it's March. What time do you expect your man?"
The girls were so excited that they declared they did not want the coffee, but preferred to wait on the porch for the arrival of the automobile which was to bring Mr. Doherty, professional swimmer and diver.
"He promised to be here at quarter-past twelve," said Florence Cummings, "but I'm[235] sure it's that now. What if he shouldn't come after all, and spoil our plans? I wish I'd offere............