Marjorie Dean, High School Junior - Part 17
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Part 17

"I am quite willing that my friends should hear whatever you have to say to me." Marjorie's brown head lifted itself a trifle higher.

"But _I_ am not willing that they should listen," snapped Miss Davis.

"Then I must refuse to listen, also," flashed the quick, but even response.

"This is sheer impudence!" exclaimed Miss Davis. "I sent for you and I insist that you must stay until I give you permission to go. As for these girls--"

"These girls will remain here until Marjorie goes," put in Ellen, admirably self-controlled. "Everyone of them knows already why you wish to see Marjorie Dean. She knows, too. We have come to defend her. I, for one, say that she _shall not_ be dismissed from the team. Her teammates say the same. It is unfair."

"Have I said that she was to be dismissed from the team?" demanded Miss Davis, too much irritated to a.s.sert her position as teacher. Ellen's blunt accusation had robbed her of her usual show of dignity.

"Can you say that such was not your intention?" cross-questioned Ellen mercilessly.

Miss Davis could not. She looked the picture of angry guilt. "I shall not answer such an impertinent question," she fumed. "You are all dismissed." Privately, she determined to send for Marjorie the next day during school hours.

"Very well." Ellen bowed her acceptance of the dismissal. "Shall we consider the matter settled?"

"Certainly not." The words leaped sharply to the woman's lips. Realizing she had blundered, she hastily amended. "There is no matter under consideration between you and me."

"Whatever concerns Marjorie's basket ball interests, concerns me. If you send for her again she will not come to you unless we come with her. Am I not right?" She appealed for information to the subject of the discussion.

"You are," was the steady reply.

"This is simply outrageous." Miss Davis completely lost composure. "Do you realize all of you that you are absolutely defying your teacher?

Miss Dean deserves to be disciplined. After such a display of discourtesy I refuse to allow her the privilege of playing on the junior basket ball team." Miss Davis continued to express herself, unmindful of the fact that Muriel Harding had slipped away from the group and out of the nearest door. Her temper aroused she held forth at length, ending with: "This disgraceful exhibition of favoritism on your part, Miss Seymour, shows very plainly that you are not fitted to manage basket ball in this school. I shall replace you as manager to-morrow. You, Miss Dean, are dismissed from the junior team. I shall report every one of you to Miss Archer as soon as I leave the gymnasium."

"I believe she is on her way here now," remarked Ellen with satirical impersonality. "Muriel went to find her and ask her to come."

"What!" Miss Davis betrayed small pleasure at this news. Quickly recovering herself she ordered: "You may go at once."

"Here she is." Ellen nodded toward a doorway through which the princ.i.p.al had just entered, Muriel only a step behind her. The senior manager's eyes twinkled satisfaction.

"What seems to be the trouble here, Miss Davis?" The princ.i.p.al came pithily to the point.

"I have been insulted by these disrespectful girls." Miss Davis waved a hand toward the defending s.e.xtette.

"That is news I do not relish hearing about my girls. I wish every teacher in this school to be treated with respect. Kindly tell me what reason they gave for doing so."

"I sent for Miss Dean on a personal matter. She insisted on bringing these girls with her. I requested them to leave me alone with Miss Dean.

They refused to do so. I dismissed them all, intending to put off my interview with Miss Dean until to-morrow. Miss Seymour took it upon herself to tell me that Miss Dean would not come to me to-morrow unless accompanied by herself and these girls. Miss Dean declared the same thing. Such conduct is unendurable."

"These young women must have strong reason for such peculiar conduct, or else they have overstepped all bounds," decided Miss Archer impa.s.sively.

"What have you to say for yourself, Ellen? As a member of the senior cla.s.s I shall expect a concise explanation."

"We have a very strong reason for our misbehavior." Ellen put a questioning inflection on the last word. "Briefly explained, it is this.

Miss Davis has been influenced by certain persons to dismiss Marjorie Dean from the junior basket ball team. Because the juniors lost the game the other day by two points, the blame for it has been unjustly placed upon Marjorie. At practice yesterday she did not play as well as usual.

These are, apparently, the very shaky causes for her dismissal. I shall not attempt to tell you the true reasons. They are unworthy of mention.

As her manager I refused to countenance such unfairness. So did her teammates. They will agree with me when I say that Marjorie is one of the best players we have ever had at Sanford High. We are all in position to say so. We know her work. So we came with her to defend her.

I admit that we took a rather stiff stand with Miss Davis. There was no other way."

"What are your reasons for dismissing Miss Dean from the team?" Still impa.s.sive of feature, the princ.i.p.al now addressed Miss Davis.

"I have received complaints regarding her work," came the defiant answer.

"According to Ellen these complaints did not proceed from either herself or her teammates. If not from them, whom could it interest to make complaint?" continued the inexorable questioner.

"The members of the junior cla.s.s are naturally interested in the team representing them," reminded Miss Davis tartly.

"How many members of the junior cla.s.s objected to Miss Dean as a player?" relentlessly pursued Miss Archer.

Miss Davis grew confused. "I-they-I decline to talk this matter over with you in the presence of these insolent girls," she hotly rallied.

"A word, girls, and you may go. I am greatly displeased over this affair. Since basket ball seems to be such a trouble-breeder, it might better be abolished in this school. I may decide to take that step.

Desperate diseases require desperate remedies. You will hear more of this later. That will be all at present."

With the feeling that the gymnasium roof was about to descend upon them, the six girls quitted the battlefield.

"Don't you ever believe Miss Archer will stop basket ball," emphasized Muriel Harding when they were well down the corridor. "She knows every single thing about it. I told her in the office. I told her, too, that I knew Rowena Farnham and Charlotte Horner were mixed up in it. They've had their heads together ever since the game."

"I would have resigned in a minute, but I just couldn't after the way you girls fought for me," Marjorie voiced her distress. "If Miss Archer stops basket ball it will be my fault. I'm sorry I ever made the team."

"You couldn't help yourself." Ellen Seymour was rapidly regaining her cheerfulness. "Don't think for a minute that Miss Davis will be able to smooth things over. Miss Archer is too clever not to recognize unfairness when she meets it face to face. And don't worry about her stopping basket ball. Take my word for it. She won't."

CHAPTER XIX-WHAT JERRY MACY "DUG UP"

As Ellen Seymour had predicted, basket ball did not receive its quietus.

But no one ever knew what pa.s.sed between Miss Archer and Miss Davis. The princ.i.p.al also held a long session with Ellen, who emerged from her office with a pleased smile. To Marjorie and her faithful support Ellen said confidentially: "It's all settled. No one will ever try to shove Marjorie off the team while Miss Archer is here. But basket ball is doomed, if anything else like that ever comes up. Miss Archer says so."

Strangely enough the six girls were not required to apologize to Miss Davis. Possibly Miss Archer was not anxious to reopen the subject by thus courting fresh rebellion. After all, basket ball was not down on the high school curriculum. She was quite willing her girls should be at liberty to manage it as they chose, provided they managed it wisely and without friction. Privately, she was disgusted with Miss Davis's part in the recent disagreement. She strongly advised the former to give up all claim to the management of the teams. But this advice Miss Davis refused to take. She still insisted on keeping up a modified show of authority, but resolved within herself to be more careful. She had learned considerable about girls.

The three plotters accepted their defeat with bad grace. Afraid that the tale would come to light, Mignon and Charlotte privately shoved the blame on Rowena's shoulders. Nothing leaked out, however, and they were too wise to censure Rowena to her face. Mignon soon discovered that the obliging soph.o.m.ore's efforts in her behalf had cost her dear. Rowena tyrannized over her more than ever. After the second game between the junior and soph.o.m.ore teams, which occurred two weeks after Marjorie's narrow escape from dismissal from the team, Mignon came into the belief that her lot was, indeed, hard. The soph.o.m.ores had been ingloriously beaten, the score standing 22-12 in favor of the juniors. In consequence Rowena was furious, forcing Mignon to listen to her long tirades against the juniors, and rating her unmercifully when she failed to register proper sympathy.

Owing to the nearness of the Christmas holidays and the brief stretch that lay between them and the mid-year examinations, the other two games were put off until February and March, respectively. No one except Rowena was sorry. She longed for a speedy opportunity to wipe the defeat off her slate. She had little of the love of holiday giving in her heart, and was heard loudly to declare that Christmas was a nuisance.

Marjorie and her little coterie of intimates regarded it very differently. They found the days before Yule-tide altogether too short in which to carry out their Christmas plans. With the nearness of the blessed anniversary of the world's King, Marjorie grew daily happier.

Since the straightening of the basket ball tangle, for her, things in school had progressed with surprising smoothness. Then, too, the hateful Observer had evidently forgotten her. Since the letter advising her to "prepare to meet the inevitable," the Observer had apparently laid down her pen. Marjorie soberly confided to her captain that she hoped Christmas might make the Observer see things differently.

Obeying the familiar mandate, which peered at her from newspaper, store or street car, "Do Your Christmas Shopping Early," she lovingly stored away the numerous be-ribboned bundles designed for intimate friends at least a week before Christmas. That last week she left open in order to go about the business of making a merry Christmas for the needy. As on the previous year Jerry Macy and Constance were her right-hand men.

Susan, Irma, Muriel and Harriet also caught the fever of giving and the six girls worked zealously, inspired by the highest motives, to bring happiness to the poverty-stricken.

Christmas morning brought Marjorie an unusual windfall of gifts. It seemed as though everyone she liked had remembered her. Looking back on the previous Christmas, she remembered rather sadly the Flag of Truce and all that it had signified. This year Mary and she were again one at heart. She dropped a few tears of sheer happiness over Mary's long Christmas letter and the beautiful embroidered Mexican scarf that had come with it. She had sent Mary a wonderful silver desk set engraved with M. to M., which she hoped wistfully that Mary would like as much as she cherished her exquisite scarf.

The Christmas vacation was, as usual, a perpetual round of gaiety. Jerry and Hal gave their usual dance. Constance gave a New Year's hop. Harriet and Muriel entertained their friends at luncheons, while Marjorie herself sent out invitations for an old-fashioned sleigh-ride party, with an informal supper and dance at her home on the return. These social events, with some few others of equal pleasure, sent Father Time spinning along giddily.

"Aren't you sorry it's all over?" sighed Constance, as she and Marjorie lingered at the Macys' gate at the close of their first day at school after the holidays.