is
encumbering sword and rushed at his rival with sudden vehemence and
blood-curdling cries. The little Indian stared for a moment in blank
amazement, then slipping off his blanket turned tail and ran, reaching
the door long before his sophomore supporters could stop him. The knight
meanwhile, left in full possession of the field, waited for a moment
until the laughter and applause had died away into curiosity. Then,
deliberately reaching up one gauntleted hand, he pulled off his helmet,
and disclosed the saucy, freckled face of the popular son of a favorite
professor.

He grinned cheerfully at the stage and the gallery, gallantly faced the
junior-freshman side, and waving his green plume aloft yelled, "Hip,
hip, hurrah for the freshmen!" at the top of a pair of very strong
lungs. Then he raced off to find the seat which had been the price of
his performance between two of his devoted admirers on the sub team,
while the gallery, regardless of meaningless prohibitions and forgetful
of class distinctions, cheered him to the echo.

All of a sudden a businesslike air began to pervade the floor of the
gymnasium. Somebody picked up the knight's sword and the Indian's
blanket, and Miss Andrews took her position under the gallery. The
ushers crowded onto the steps of the stage, and the members of the
teams, who had gathered around their captains for a last hurried
conference, began to find their places.

"Oh, I almost wished they'd sing for a while more," sighed Betty.

"Do you?" answered Helen absently. She was leaning out over the iron bar
of the railing with her eyes glued to the smallest freshman centre.
"Why?"

"Oh, it makes me feel so thrilled and the songs are so clever and
amusing, and the mascots so funny."

"Oh, yes," agreed Helen. "The things here are all like that, but I want
to see them play."

"You mean you want to see her play," corrected Betty merrily. "I don't
believe you care for a single other thing but T. Reed. Where is she?"

Helen pointed her out proudly.

"Oh, what an awfully funny, thin little braid! Isn't she comical in her
gym suit, anyway? You wouldn't think she could play at all, would you,
she's so small."

"But she can," said Helen stoutly.

"Don't I know it? I guarded her once--that is, I tried to. She's a
perfect wonder. See, there's Rachel up by our basket. Katherine says
she's fine too. Helen, they're going to begin."

The assistant gym teacher had the whistle now. She blew it s