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cautious. Two more fouls and he’d be out.
    Dan Levine was in for him when the fourth quarter got under way. After two minutes of play Coach Munson took Stevie out and
     put in Paul.
    “I just like to have him in there for a while to get him used to playing,” the coach said to Glenn. “He’s still awfully slow
     catching on.But as long as he’s in there even a little bit now and then I think he’s happy, don’t you?”
    Glenn smiled. The coach had never said anything to him about Paul before. “He sure is,” Glenn said.
    “Probably talks about it at home, doesn’t he?”
    “He sure does. The only thing — ” Glenn paused. He wished suddenly he hadn’t started to say something else.
    The coach looked at him. “The only thing what?”
    Glenn shrugged. “Oh, nothing.”
    “Come on, out with it. What were you going to say?”
    Glenn’s voice faltered. “Well, I was hoping the guys would be different.”
    The coach nodded. “I know what you mean, Glenn. Just be patient. Give them time. They’ll come around.”
    There was a wild scramble under theSabers basket. Glenn took a quick look at the score. Sabers — 47; Blue Waves — 49. Man, it was close.
    “Get that rebound!” Coach Munson shouted. “Get that rebound!”
    Glenn looked for Paul. Excitement flamed up in him as he saw Paul under the basket with the rest of them, trying to catch
     the ball.
    And then he did get it! He leaped, shot, and the ball went in!
    “Oh, no!” Coach Munson moaned, and covered his eyes with his hands.
    Everyone on the Sabers bench, and the remaining four on the floor, and all those Sabers fans moaned, too.
    Paul had shot the ball into the wrong basket.

8
    C oach Munson removed Paul from the game and sent in another player. Glenn was glad that it wasn’t him the coach was sending
     in. His heart was beating like crazy. Paul had sure goofed. He had given the Blue Waves two points, putting them four points
     ahead.
    Paul sat beside Glenn. His eyes were dim.
    “Don’t cry, Paul!” Glenn said huskily into his ear. “For crying out loud, don’t do that! It was just a mistake!”
    “Don Marshang yelled at me,” Paul said,his voice ready to crack. “He called me a birdbrain.”
    That doggone Marshang. If anybody was a birdbrain, it was him.
    “Don Marshang doesn’t know any better,” said Glenn. He picked up the towel lying near his feet. “Here. Dry yourself.”
    A little while later the coach had him go in for Dan Levine.
I’m going to make up for Paul’s goof,
Glenn promised himself. He played hard, covering his man like a tent. His chance came. He intercepted a pass, dribbled it
     to the center line, passed to Don. Don passed to Jim. Jim dribbled across the keyhole, flipped a pass to Glenn, who was running
     in. Glenn took it, leaped, just as a hand smacked his wrist.
    The whistle shrilled as the ball wiggled through the net. The referee signaled to the scorekeeper that the basket counted,
     and that the foul was on 42.
    “Thataway, Glenn!” Paul shouted from the bench.
    He made the foul shot, and cheers burst from the Sabers fans.
I got back those two points and one extra,
Glenn thought.
But we’re still one behind.
    He never played as hard as he did those last remaining moments. He had another opportunity to shoot, and missed the ring by
     inches. Don tried his best to sink a field goal, too. But the Blue Waves swarmed over the Sabers like hornets. The seconds
     dribbled away until there were no more left. The Blue Waves edged out the Sabers, 51–50.
    Don, Andy, and Stevie had no words to say to anyone in the locker room. No good words, that was. “If that birdbrain hadn’t
     given them that basket we would’ve taken them,” Don said to Andy. He said it softly,but Glenn, sitting only a few feet away, heard him.
    His neck grew hot. He looked up at Don, but Don was unlacing his sneakers and didn’t lift his eyes.
    As they left the Recreation Hall for home Paul couldn’t get over the mistake he had