A GENEROUS APPEAL
The juniors themselves hardly felt the weight of their punishment more
than did Grace Harlowe. Her heart was set on winning every basketball game
of the series. But she wished to win fairly and honestly. Now, that the
juniors had been forbidden the use of the gymnasium, the sophomores might
practise there to their heart's content. But was that fair? To be sure the
juniors had deserved their punishment, but what kind of basketball could
they play after having had no practice for two weeks? Besides, Julia
Crosby blamed her for telling what had occurred in the gymnasium. She had
gone to Julia, earnestly avowing innocence, but Julia had only laughed at
her and refused to listen.

All this passed rapidly through Grace's mind as she walked toward the High
School several mornings later. Something must be done, but what she hardly
knew. The game could be postponed, but Grace felt that the other girls
would not care to postpone it. They were heartily glad that the junior
team had come to grief, and showed no sympathy for them.

"There's just one thing to be done," sighed Grace to herself. "And that's
to go to Miss Thompson and ask her to restore the juniors their privilege.
I hate to do it, she was so angry with them. But I'll do what I can,
anyway. Here goes."

Miss Thompson was in her office when Grace entered rather timidly, seating
herself on the oak settee until the principal should find time to talk to
talk with her.

"Well, Grace, what can I do for you?" said Miss Thompson, looking up
smilingly at the young girl. "You look as though you carried the cares of
the world upon your shoulders this morning."

"Not quite all of them, but I have a few especial ones that are bothering
me," replied Grace. Then after a moment's hesitation she said, "Miss
Thompson, won't you, please, restore the juniors their gymnasium
privilege?"

Miss Thompson regarded Grace searchingly. "What a peculiar request to
make, Grace. Don't you consider the juniors' punishment a just one?"

"Yes," said Grace earnestly, "I do. But this is the whole trouble. The
first basketball game between the juniors and the sophomores is scheduled
to take place in less than two weeks. If the juniors do not practise they
will play badly, and we shall beat them. We hope to win, at any rate, but
we want to feel that they have had the same chances that we have had. If
they do fail, they will say that it was because they had no opportunity
for practice. That will take all the sweetness out of the victory for us."

"I think I see," said Miss Thompson, smiling a little. "It is a case of
the innocent suffering with the guilty, isn't it? Personally, I hardly
feel like restoring these bad children to favor, as they sadly needed a
lesson; but since you take the matter so seriously to heart; I suppose I
must say 'yes.'"

"Thank you so much, dear Miss Thompson," said Grace with shining eyes,
"and now I want to ask one more favor. Julia Crosby believes that I
reported her to you that day. Of course you know that I did not. Will you
please tell her so? Her accusation has made me very unhappy."

Miss Thompson looked a trifle stern. "Yes, Grace," she said, "I will
attend to that, too."

Grace turned to go, but Miss Thompson said. "Wait a moment, Grace, I will
send for Miss Crosby."

Julia Crosby heard the summons with dismay. She wondered what Miss
Thompson could have to say to her. The principal's reprimand had been so
severe that even mischievous Julia felt obliged to go softly. Another
performance like the last might cut short her High School career. So she
let the sophomores severely alone. She was, therefore, surprised on
entering the office to meet Grace Harlowe face to face.

"Miss Crosby," said Miss Thompson coldly, "Miss Harlowe has just asked me
to restore the junior team their gymnasium privilege. Had any other girl
asked this favor I should have refused her. But Miss Harlowe, in spite of
the shabby way in which she has been treated, is generous enough to
overlook the past, and begs that you be given another chance. It is only
for her sake that I grant it.

"Also, Miss Crosby, I received no information from Miss Harlowe or any of
her team regarding your recent rude conduct in the gymnasium. The report
came from an entirely different source. You may go; but first you may
apologize to Miss Harlowe, and thank her for what she has done."

With a very poor grace, Julia mumbled a few words of apology and thanks
and hurried from the room. The principal looked after her and shook her
head, then turning to Grace, she asked, "Well, Grace, are you satisfied?"

Grace thanked her again, and with a light heart sped towards the study
hall. Once more she could look forward to the coming game with pleasant
anticipations.

Julia Crosby had already informed the junior players of the rise in their
fallen fortunes. When school was over they gathered about their leader to
hear the story. Now, Julia, if possible felt more bitter toward Grace than
formerly. It galled her to be compelled to accept anything from Grace's
hands, and she did not intend to let any more of the truth be known than
she could help. This was too good an opportunity to gain popularity to let
slip through her fingers So she put on a mysterious expression and said:

"Now, see here, girls, I got you into all that trouble, and I made up my
mind to get you out again. Just go ahead and practise for all your worth,
and don't worry about how it all happened."

"Well," said Alice Waite, "it was awfully brave of you to go to Miss
Thompson, even if you are too modest to tell of it. Wasn't it, girls?"

"Yes," chorused the team. "Three cheers for our brave captain."

Julia, fairly dazzled at her own popularity, smiled a smile of intense
satisfaction. She had produced exactly the impression that she wished.

"What on earth are those juniors making such a fuss about?" inquired Nora
O'Malley, as the four chums strolled across the campus toward the gate.
The junior team, headed by Julia, was coming down the walk talking at the
top of their voices.

"Nothing of any importance, you may be sure," said Jessica Bright.
"'Shallow brooks babble loudest,' you know."

"They seem to be 'babbling' over Julia Crosby just now," said Anne, who
had been curiously watching the jubilant juniors.

"No doubt she has just unfolded some new scheme," said Nora sarcastically,
"that will be practised on the sophomores at the first opportunity."

"Doesn't it seem strange," said Grace, who had hitherto offered no
comments, "that we must always be at sixes and sevens with the juniors?
Such a spirit never existed between classes before. I wonder how it will
all end?"

"Don't worry your dear head over those girls, Grace," said Anne, patting
Grace's hand. "They aren't worth it."

"Oh, look girls!" exclaimed Nora suddenly. "There is David Nesbit, and he
is coming this way. I haven't seen him for an age."

"Good afternoon, girls," said David, lifting his cap. "It is indeed a
pleasure to see you."

"Why, David," said Grace, "you are quite a stranger. Where have you been
keeping yourself?"

Anne also looked her pleasure at seeing her old friend.

"I have been very, very busy with some important business of my own," said
David in a mock-pompous tone. Then he announced: "I am going to give a
party and I am going to invite all of you. Will you come?"

"We will!" cried Nora. "Dressed in our costliest raiment, at that."

"Never mind about the fine clothes," said David, laughing. "This is to be
a plain, every-day affair."

"Who else is invited, David?" asked Jessica.

"Only one other girl beside yourselves has had the honor of receiving an
invitation."

"Miriam?" queried Grace, unable to conceal a shade of disappointment in
her tone.

"No, no; not Miriam," answered Miriam's brother.

Grace looked relieved. If Miriam joined the party, something unpleasant
was sure to happen. Miriam treasured a spite against Anne for winning the
freshman prize, and never treated her with civility when they chanced to
meet. Grace knew, too, that Miriam's attitude toward her was equally
hostile. She wondered if David knew all these things about his sister.

Whatever he did know of Miriam and her deep-laid plans and schemes, he
divulged to no one. None of the girls had ever heard him say a word
against his sister; although they felt that he deeply disapproved of her
jealousy and false pride.

"You haven't guessed her name yet," smiled David. "She is one of my best
friends, girls. She has been my sweetheart ever since I was a young man of
five. She's one of the prettiest girls in Oakdale, she's sixty years
young, and her name is----"

"Dear Mrs. Gray, of course!" exclaimed Grace delightedly.

"And has she accepted your invitation?" asked Anne.

"She has," replied David, "and will come in her coach and four, or rather
her carriage and two. You ordinary mortals will be obliged to walk, I
fear."

"But why does she use her 'coach and four,' When she lives in the palace
just next door?" rhymed Nora.

"Very good, my child," commented David. "However, what I was about to say
was this: My party is not to be in a house. It is an open-air party. We
are to meet at the Omnibus House, to-morrow afternoon at four o'clock.
Two very distinguished gentlemen have also been invited--Mr. Reddy Brooks
and Mr. Hippy Wingate."

A shout of laughter went up from the girls

"Distinguished, indeed," cried Nora. "It will be a delightful party I am
sure."

"Shall we bring food for Hippy!"

"No," laughed David. "Let him eat the apples he finds on the ground. If we
feed him on every festive occasion he will soon be too fat to walk, and we
shall have to roll him about on casters."

"What a terrible fate," said Anne smiling.

"Well, girls? do you promise to attend?"

"Yes? indeed!" cried the four girls.

"Be sure not to surprise us with a disappointment."

"The main thing is not to disappoint you with the surprise," were his
parting words.

"If all boys were as nice as David the world would be a better place!"
exclaimed Grace. "I suppose you can guess what the object of this party
is."

"Never mind, don't mention it," said Jessica in a low tone. "Here come
some other girls, and if they knew what we know, there would be a
multitude instead of a select, private party at the Omnibus House
to-morrow."




CHAPTER IV

AN UNFORTUNATE AVIATOR


It was an unusual entertainment that David had provided for his little
circle of intimate friends in the old orchard surrounding the Omnibus
House. There was a look of intense excitement in his eyes, as he stood
awaiting his guests, the following afternoon. Mrs. Gray had already
arrived, and, leaving her carriage to wait for her near the entrance, now
stood by David and helped him receive.

"It's good to see all my children together again," she exclaimed, giving
Anne a gentle hug; for ever since her Christmas house party she had
acquired a sort of proprietary feeling toward these young people. "I only
wish Tom Gray were to be with us to-day. I should like him to have a share
in the surprise; for you may be sure there is to be a surprise. David
would never have asked us to this lonely place for nothing."

"David is a good old reliable, Mrs. Gray," cried Hippy. "Certainly if I
had imagined for a moment that he would disappoint us, I never should have
dragged my slight frame all this distance."

"Good, loyal old Hippy," replied David. "The surprise is ready, but even
if it had not been, there is no exercise so beneficial to stout people as
walking."

"Well, bring it on, bring it on," exclaimed Reddy. "We are waiting
patiently."

"Curb your impatience, Sorrel Top," said David. "Just follow me, and see
what I have to show you."

They helped little Mrs. Gray, who was nimble in spite of her years,
through a broken gap in the wall of the Omnibus House. The old ruin was
more picturesque than, ever in its cloak of five-leafed ivy which the
autumn had touched with red and gold. A lean-to had been built against the
back wall of the building, fitted with a stout door on the inside and a
pair of doors on the outside.

"I rented this plot of land from the farmer who owns the orchard,"
explained David, taking a key from his pocket and opening the door in the
stone wall. "This was about the best place I could think of for
experiments, partly because it's such a lonesome place, and partly because
there is a clear open space of several hundred yards back here without a
tree or bush on it."

It was dark inside until he had opened the double doors in the opposite
wall, when the slanting light showed them an aëroplane; not a little
gymnasium model this time, but a full-fledged flying machine, a trim and
graceful object, even at close view.

"David," cried Anne joyously, "you don't mean to say you've gone and done
it at last?"

"I have," answered David gravely; "and I've made two trips with pretty
good success each time."

Then everyone talked at once. David was the hero of the hour.

"David, my dear boy," cried Mrs. Gray. "To think that I should live to see
you an aviator!"

"I'm a long way from being one, yet, Mrs. Gray," answered David. "My bird
doesn't always care to fly. There are times when she'd rather stay in her
nest with her wings folded. Of course, I haven't nearly perfected her yet,
so I don't want it mentioned in town until I get things in shape. But I
couldn't wait until then to show it to you, my dear friends, because you
were all interested in it last year."

"Well, well, come on and fly," cried Hippy. "My heart is palpitating so
with excitement that I am afraid it will beat once too often if something
doesn't happen."

"I was waiting for my helper," answered David, "but he appears to be late.
You boys will do as well."

"Who is your helper, David?" asked Anne.

"You could never guess," he replied smiling, "so I'll have to tell you.
It's old Jean, the hunter."

"Why, the dear old thing!" cried Grace. "To think of him leaving his
uncivilized state to do anything so utterly civilized and modern as to
help with a flying machine."

"And he does it well, too," went on David. "He is not only thoroughly
interested but he keeps guard out here in case any one should try to break
in. There are his cot and things in the corner. He sleeps in the open
unless it rains. Then he sleeps inside."

As the old hunter did not put in an appearance David decided to wait no
longer.

"Why can't we all help?" asked Grace. "What must we do? Please tell us."

"All right," answered David, "just give it a shove into the open space,
and you'll see how she gradually rises for a flight."

After making a careful examination of all the parts of the aëroplane, and
starting the engine, David took his seat in the machine.

Then the two boys, assisted by Grace and Nora, pushed it swiftly out into
the broad open space back of the ruin.

Suddenly the machine began to rise. Slowly, at first, then seeming to
gather strength and confidence like a young bird that has learned to fly
at last, it soared over the apple trees. David, white, but very calm,
quietly worked the levers that operated the little engine. When he had
risen about a hundred feet, he began to dip and soar around the orchard in
circles. He appeared to have forgotten his friends, watching anxiously
below. He did not notice that little Mrs. Gray's knees had suddenly
refused to support her, nor that she had sat flat on the ground in a state
of utter bewilderment at the sight of his sudden flight. David looked far
across at the beautiful rolling meadows, and fields dotted with farmhouses
and cottages. How he loved the fertile valley, with its little river
winding in and out between green banks! It was all so beautiful, but it
was time to descend. He must not give his pet too much liberty, or he
might rue his indiscretion. He headed his machine for the open space back
of the Omnibus House, and began the descent. Then, something snapped, and
he fell. He remembered as he fell the look of horror on the up-raised
faces of his friends, and then everything became a blank.

It all happened in a flash, much too quickly to do anything but stand and
wait until the aëroplane had crashed to the ground, but it seemed much
longer, and Anne remembered later that she had felt a curious impulse to
run away and hide. If David were to meet his death through this new toy,
she could not endure to stay and see it happen.

But David was far from dead. He was only stunned and dizzy from the swift
descent. He had not been high enough from the ground when the accident
occurred to sustain serious injuries. They lifted him from the machine and
laid him upon the grass, while Reddy ran to the brook and brought back his
cap filled with water.

Mrs. Gray produced her smelling salts which she always carried with her.
"Not for my own use, my dears," she always said, "but for the benefit of
other people."

Reddy loosened David's collar and dashed the water into his face; while
Hippy chafed unconscious boy's wrists.

Presently David opened his eyes, looking vaguely about. He had a confused
idea that something had happened to him, but just what it was he could not
think. He looked up into the anxious faces of his friends who stood around
him. Then he remembered.

"I'm not hurt," he said in a rather weak voice. Then he sat up and smiled
feebly at the company. "I just had the wind knocked out of me. I am sure
no bones are broken. How about my pet bird? Has she smashed her little
ribs?"

"No, old fellow," exclaimed Hippy in a reassuring tone, for Hippy had
never been able to endure the sight of suffering or disappointment. "Her
wings are a good deal battered, that's all. But are you all right, old
man?" he added, feeling David's arms and legs, and even putting an ear
over his heart.

"It's still beating, you foolish, old fat-head," said David, patting his
friend affectionately on the back.

In the meantime Anne had helped Mrs. Gray to her feet.

"I declare, I feel as though I had dropped from the clouds myself," said
the old lady, wiping her eyes. "I am so stunned and bewildered. David, my
dear boy, if you had been seriously hurt I should never have forgiven
myself for allowing you to fly off like that. What would your poor mother
say if she knew what had happened?"

"It won't be necessary to break the news to her, Mrs. Gray," said David.
"I shall be as good as new inside of a few minutes. It's my poor little
bird here who has received the injuries. Look at her poor battered wings!
I think I know just what caused my sudden descent though, and I'll take
care it doesn't happen again."

David then began a minute examination of his damaged pet, and soon located
the trouble. His friends listened, deeply interested, as he explained the
principles of aviation, and showed them how he had carried out his own
ideas in constructing his aëroplane. Grace, who had a taste for mechanics,
asked all sorts of questions, until Hippy asked her if she intended
building an aëroplane of her own.

"I may," replied Grace, laughing. "You know that girls have as much chance
at the big things of the world to-day, as boys."

"Well, if you do, let me know," responded Hippy, "and I'll write an epic
poem about you that will make the world sit up and take notice."

"Then I am assured of fame beforehand," laughed Grace.

"Look!" said Nora suddenly. "Who are those people coming across the
orchard? Doesn't that look like Julia Crosby and some of her crowd?"

"Yes," exclaimed Grace, "it is, and Miriam is with them."

"Then help me get my aëroplane into the shed quickly," exclaimed David.
"You know that the Crosby girl is not a favorite with me." Then he added
half to himself, "I don't see why Miriam insists on going around with her
so much."

The boys lost no time in getting the aëroplane into the house, David
slammed the doors, and triumphantly turned the key in the lock just as
Miriam and her party came up.

With a quick glance Miriam's eyes took in the situation. She bowed
courteously to Mrs. Gray, whom she dared not slight; included Grace, Nora
and Jessica in a cool little nod, and stared straight past Anne. Then
turning to her brother she said, "David, show Miss Crosby and her friends
your aëroplane, they wish to see it."

A look of grim determination settled about David's mouth. Looking his
sister squarely in the face, he said, "I am sorry to seem disobliging but
I cannot show your friends my aëroplane and I am surprised to find that
they know I have one."

Miriam reddened at this, but said insolently, "If you can invite other
people to see it, you can show it to us."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Mrs. Gray looked surprised and
annoyed. The peaceful old lady, disliked scenes of any kind. Grace and her
chums, knowing that Miriam was only making herself ridiculous, felt
embarrassed for her. Then Julia Crosby laughed in her tantalizing
irritating way.

That settled the matter as far as David was concerned.

"You are right," he said, "I could show my flying machine to you and your
friends if I cared to do so. However, I don't care to. Knowing that I
wished my experiment to be kept a secret, you came here with the one idea
of being disagreeable, and you have succeeded. I am sorry to be so rude to
my own sister, but occasionally the brutal truth is a good thing for you
to hear, Miriam."

Miriam was speechless with anger, but before she could frame a reply, Mrs.
Gray said soothingly "Children, children don't quarrel. David, it is
getting late. We had better go. I suppose it is of no use to ask any of
you athletic young folks to ride back to town." With a little bow to
Miriam and her discomfited party, Mrs. Gray turned toward where her
carriage awaited her, followed by David and his friends.

After bidding her good-bye, the young people took the road to town. For
David's sake all mention of the recent unpleasantness was tacitly avoided,
though it was uppermost in each one's mind.

"I have one thing to be thankful for," said Grace to Anne, as she turned
in at her own gate, "and that is that Miriam Nesbit isn't my sister."

As for Miriam, her feelings can be better imagined than described. She
sulked and pouted the whole way home, vowing to get even with David for
daring to cross her. Julia Crosby grew rather tired of Miriam's tirade,
and left her with the parting advice that she had better forget it.

When Miriam reached home she immediately asked if David had come in.
Receiving an affirmative reply, she went from room to room looking for
him, and finally found him in the library. He was busy with a book on
aviation. She snatched the book from him, threw it across the room and
expressed her opinion of himself and his friends in very plain terms.
Without a word David picked up his book and walked out of the library,
leaving her in full possession of the field.




CHAPTER V

ON THE EVE OF BATTLE


But little time remained before the first basketball game of the series
between the sophomores and juniors. Both teams had been untiring in their
practice. There had been no further altercations between them as to the
use of the gymnasium, for the juniors, fearing the wrath of Miss Thompson,
were more circumspect in their behavior, and let the sophomore team
strictly alone.

"They are liable to break out at any time, you can trust them just as far
as you can see them and no farther, and that's the truth," cried Nora
O'Malley. The sophomore players were standing in the corridor outside the
gymnasium awaiting the pleasure of the juniors, whose practice time was
up.

"They are supposed to be out of here at four o'clock," continued Nora,
"and it's fifteen minutes past four now. They are loitering on purpose
They don't dare to do mean things openly since Miss Thompson lectured them
so, but they make up for it by being aggravating."

"Never mind, Nora," said Grace, smiling at Nora's outburst. "We'll whip
them off the face of the earth next Saturday."

"Well, I hope so," said Nora, "I am sure we are better players."

"What outrageous conceit," said Jessica, and the four girls laughed
merrily.

"By the way, Grace," said Anne, "I want to ask you something about that
list you gave me. I don't quite understand what one of those signals
means."

"Trot it out," said Grace. "I'll have time to tell you about it before the
practice actually begins."

Anne took out her purse and began searching for the list. It was not to be
found.

"Why, how strange," she said. "I was looking at it this morning on the way
to school. I wonder if I have lost it. That would be dreadful."

She turned her purse upside down, shaking it energetically, but no list
fell out.

"Oh, never mind," said Grace, seeing Anne's distress. "It's of no
consequence. No one will ever find it anyway. Suppose it were found, who
would know what it meant?"

"Yes, but one would know," persisted Anne, "because I wrote 'Sophomore
basketball signals' on the outside of it. Oh, dear, I don't see how I
could have been so careless."

"Poor little Anne," said Jessica, "she is always worried over something or
other."

"Now see here, Anne," said Grace, "just because you lost a letter last
term and had trouble over it, don't begin to mourn over those old signals.
No one will ever see them, and perhaps you haven't lost them. Maybe you'll
find them at home."

"Perhaps I shall," said Anne brightening.

"Now smile Anne," said Nora, "and forget your troubles. There is no use in
crossing bridges before you come to them."

This homely old saying seemed to console Anne, and soon she was eagerly
watching the work of the team, her brief anxiety forgotten.

That night she searched her room, and the next day gave her desk in school
a thorough overhauling, but the list of signals remained missing.

The sophomore players with their substitute team met that afternoon in the
gymnasium. It was their last opportunity for practice. Saturday they would
rise to victory or go down in ignominious defeat. The latter seemed to
them impossible. They had practised faithfully, and Grace had been so
earnest in her efforts to perfect their playing that they were completely
under her control and moved like clockwork. There was no weak spot in the
team. Every point had been diligently worked over and mastered. They had
played several games with the freshmen and had won every time, so Grace
was fairly confident of their success.

"Oh, girls," she cried, wringing her hands in her earnestness, "don't make
any mistakes. Keep your heads, all of you. I am convinced we are better
players than the juniors, even if they did get the pennant last year. For
one thing I don't think they work together as well as we do, and that's
really the main thing. Miriam, you missed practice yesterday. You are
going to stay to-day, aren't you?"

Miriam nodded without replying. She was busy with her own thoughts. She
wished she could hit upon some way to humiliate Grace Harlowe. But what
could she do? That was the question. The members of the team adored their
gray-eyed, independent young captain, therefore she would have to be very
careful.

She had been steadily losing ground with her class on account of her
constant association with the juniors, and the slightest misstep on her
part would jeopardize her place on the team. She had a genuine love for
the game, and since she couldn't play on the junior team, she concluded it
would be just as well not to lose her place with the sophomores. In her
heart she cared nothing for her class. She had tried to be their leader,
and Grace had supplanted her, but now Grace should pay for it.

All this passed through Miriam's mind as she covertly watched Grace, who
was reassuring Anne for the fiftieth time, not to worry over the lost
signals.

"Don't tell any one about it," she whispered to Anne. "You may find them
yet."

Anne shook her head sorrowfully. She felt in some way that those signals
were bound to make trouble for her.

"By the way, girls," said Grace, addressing the team, "has any one any
objection to Anne and Jessica staying to see the practice game? They have
seen all our work and are now anxious to see the practice game. They know
all the points, but they want to see how the new signal code works."

"Of course not," answered the girls. "We won't turn Oakdale's star pupil
out of the gym. Anne shall be our mascot. As for Jessica, she is a matter
of course."

"I object," said Miriam. "I object seriously."

"Object?" repeated Grace, turning in amazement to Miriam. "Why?"

"You know that it is against all basketball rules to allow any one in the
gymnasium during practice except the regular team and the subs. If we
follow our rules then we shall be certain that nothing we do reaches the
ears of the juniors. We have always made an exception of Jessica, but I
don't think we should allow any one else here."

"And do you think that Anne Pierson would carry information?" exclaimed
Grace sharply. "Really, Miriam, you are provoking enough to try the
patience of a saint. Just as if Anne, who is the soul of honor, would do
such a thing."

An indignant murmur arose from the girls. They were all prepared to like
little Anne, although they did not know her very well.

"How can you say such things, Miriam?" cried Nora.

"I didn't say she would," said Miriam rather alarmed at the storm she had
raised. "But I do think it is better to be careful. However, have it your
own way. But if we lose the game----"