Part 18 (2/2)

But Patricia had been using her brains while she played, and Judith and Nancy ministering to the team heard her final injunctions.

”We'll beat 'em yet. Watch that right centre and Pamela Price on the left guard; they're both dandy shots, and they both want a chance to show off. Mark my words, we'll get some fine shots the last half. Their weak point is team-work, and I'm glad to say we're playing together--watch your pa.s.sing--we're bound to win!”

Judith and Nancy went back to their posts in a state of great excitement. There was an infectious courage and cheeriness about Patricia's words. Certainly Queen's had five points to their favour, but just as certainly York Hill would win!

Up went the ball again and up went the spider-like centre's long arms, and away went the coveted ball in the wrong direction. Judith's heart sank--this half was going to be just like the other--how terrible!

Thirteen-eight--Fourteen-eight.

The whistle blew. Judith couldn't see what had happened, but evidently there had been a foul, for Catherine had a free throw.

York Hill let themselves go for a minute. Good for Cathy! Seconds were precious now and the play was swift.

Again the whistle.

This time Patricia took the ball.

York Hill held its breath.

Fourteen-ten.

Nothing succeeds like success!

The York Hill team quickened and became tense during those last few seconds like a great orchestra for the finale of a symphony, in answer to the conductor's baton. Patricia felt a thrill of pride. How magnificently the team was responding--they were playing like one person--and that person meant to win--there could be no doubt of it.

”Fifteen-fifteen,” said the umpire calmly.

Judith standing quietly beside Nancy wanted to shriek and shout like a young savage--”We're going to beat you! We're going to beat you--yah!”

Fifteen-seventeen! Good for Althea!

Ah, Pamela Price has scored!

”Good play,” said York, generously applauding a neat shot.

Seventeen-all--and a minute more to play!

Althea has the ball--no, there it is--Patricia's got it--

That must be Pamela again--no, Catherine has it!

Catherine poised herself and threw.

A soft sighing sound from hundreds of lips marked the safe arrival of the ball in the basket, and then spontaneous cheering drowned the umpire's voice.

York Hill had the cup for another year!

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