“Here, you bally driver, what do you mean by waking civilized people up by that din?” he demanded angrily.
“Isn’t this the place?” questioned the engineer innocently.
“Yes, it is the place, but blowing all the steam out of your boiler wasn’t a part of the job for which you were engaged. Either stop that racket or pull off where we won’t hear you. It’s five o’clock in the morning.”
“I got to get through and go back on a road job.”
“You will be finished before you start if you don’t watch out. Pull away from there. There are ladies in that tent. I don’t flatter myself that they are asleep. If this were a cemetery nobody would be asleep now, after your salutation to the dawn. Pull out, I tell you, and give them a chance.”
The engineer jerked the throttle open and started his lumbering craft ahead without a word of reply to the irate Englishman, who was regarding him with frowning eyes. The engineer drove his engine to the edge of the clearing, where once more the steam began to blow off, but he mercifully refrained from pulling the whistle. After the roller had come to a halt again, Disbrow hopped back to his own tent, where he took his time about making his morning toilet.
In the meantime the girls were gazing at each other wonderingly.
“What does it mean?” questioned the guardian.
“I do not know,” replied Harriet. “You heard Mr. Disbrow admit that the man had made no mistake in coming here. But what need have we for a steam roller unless it be to run over us, which perhaps might be a good thing after all,” she added with a laugh.
“Dress yourselves, girls,” ordered Miss Elting. “We have overslept as it is. Perhaps it is just as well that the steam roller woke us up.”
“I think I prefer another kind of alarm clock,” chuckled Harriet. “This one is too violent and nerve-racking.”
Mr. Disbrow was out a second time before the girls had made ready for their first appearance. He walked over and held a brief conversation with the driver of the roller, after which he sat down by his own tent to await the coming of the girls, who, he felt sure, would soon be out.
They were. They shouted a cheery good morning to their guest, who thereupon hobbled over to them, looking somewhat embarrassed.
“To whom are we indebted for the steam roller?” asked the guardian lightly.
“I owe you an apology, ladies. When I sent word to the man to come here, I did not for a moment imagine he would find it advisable to drive his hideous vehicle into camp before breakfast. I have expressed as much to him, though in somewhat less temperate language,” added Disbrow with a faint smile.
“The apology is accepted, sir,” answered Harriet gravely. “But we are still in the dark as to the reason for this—this visitation?”
“Ah, yes. I took it upon myself. You see, I need some practice, my late accident making it necessary that I, too, begin playing. No better opportunity will present itself. However, the court being in such wretched shape I dare not attempt any work upon it. It was for that reason that I had the boys send to town for a steam roller.”
“To pack down the court! Oh, that is it,” said Harriet brightly. “How can we thank you?”
“No necessity, Miss Burrell. I tell you it was principally in my own behalf that I ordered the roller. I didn’t order the whistle. That is thrown in gratis. When the boys get here we will have the net taken down so that the man can begin his work of rolling the court.”
“No need to wait for the boys. Come on, girls,” cried Harriet.
They ran to the court and, pulling up the stakes, laid the net flat, after which they rolled it carefully. The net was then removed and laid beside their tent, racquets and stakes were gathered up and stowed in the same place. It was all done with the usual snap of the Meadow-Brook Girls.
“You American girls certainly have the initiative,” declared Disbrow approvingly. “You aren’t afraid to do things. Now, if you were English, you would sit about and look languid, you would wait until the men came to do the work for you. Not so the American girl. When there is a thing to be done she does it. That is all there is to it. I’ll tell that driver to start in. I believe he has gone to sleep.”
“Thhall I throw a thtone at him?” questioned Tommy.
“By no means,” answered the guardian severely. “Run over and tell him we are ready for him.”
“No, no! Leave that for me,” protested Disbrow. But Harriet was already running toward the roller. She awakened the driver, telling him he might begin work at once. He delayed a long time before starting, first feeding more coal into the fire box and oiling the rheumatic joints of the machine before starting. While Mr. Disbrow was showing the driver how the court was to be rolled, the girls were hurriedly preparing breakfast. Had they not been enthusiastic before, they surely would be now that their instructor had gone to all this pains and expense in their behalf. They well knew that it was done wholly on their own account, despite his explanations to the contrary.
Captain George and his party arrived after the girls had finished their breakfast and the man was still clanking back and forth over the court, which was being slowly packed down into a firm surface that shone under the polish put on by the heavy roller.
“You are up early this morning,” remarked Disbrow, “but we have finished our breakfast. You will have to wait until luncheon time.”
“Had our breakfast, thank you,” answered Sam. “What time did the automobile get here?”
“That got here before breakfatht, too,” answered Tommy. “You mutht have thlept pretty thoundly not to have heard it.”
“We did hear it. We heard the whistle,” replied George. “Fine time of day to get here. Who cleared the court?”
“The young ladies,” answered Disbrow, with a reproving glance at the Tramp Boys.
“Too bad we all had sprained ankles,” retorted Sam mischievously, whereat a smile flitted over the pale face of P. Earlington Disbrow.
By eight o’clock Disbrow, after walking over the court and poking it with his stick, pronounced it satisfactory. He paid the driver of the outfit and dismissed him. The boys were directed to place the net, while the instructor looked on critically. When it came to measuring the court, he insisted on doing this himself.
“It is of vital importance that one practise under the identical conditions that will prevail in the match game. George, set up stakes and stretch a string so that all our lines may be true.”
When the court was completed, about an hour later, the campers gazed upon it delightedly.
“Oh, this is a real court!” cried Harriet with glowing eyes.
“Yes. And now you shall do some real playing. We shall have our strokes first, then we shall see you put them into practice in a real game. I’ll be playing myself if I look at that handsome court any longer.”
The day’s work was welcomed with enthusiasm by the Meadow-Brook team. Three sets were played before luncheon time, and rather spirited games they were. The girls with each succeeding game grew more and more proficient as the different strokes became more mechanical to them, and when a halt was called for the noon meal P. Earlington Disbrow showed real enthusiasm.
“Fine, fine!” he exclaimed, smiling broadly.
“Then you think we thall win the tournament?” questioned Tommy.
“My dear Miss Thompson, we are not cup-winners yet; we are still in the novice class. We hope to advance a step a day until we get into one of the higher classes.”
A long rest was taken after luncheon, and then the afternoon was a repetition of the morning with work made easy by the enthusiasm and the painstaking effort of the Meadow-Brook Girls. It had been the first really successful day since they began their practice.
“One point in your favor,” declared Disbrow as he was leaving the Meadow-Brook camp that night, “is your wonderful endurance. I believe in a long race you would wear out a steam engine. Add skill to that quality of endurance and you will be heard from one of these days on the tennis court.”
With this cheering word still ringing in their ears the Meadow-Brook Girls tumbled into bed and went to sleep almost as soon as they had drawn their blankets under their chins.
CHAPTER XV
WOULD-BE CUP WINNERS BREAK CAMP
“Well, P. E., what do you think now?” asked Captain Baker on the first opportunity.
“I think, as I did when you asked me that question some time ago, that the Meadow-Brook team will attract considerable attention by their playing in the Coast Tournament. They may even get a place well up in the list, but so far as winning any of the prizes, I do not believe they are far enough advanced for that. Their progress, during the four weeks we have been at work, is nothing less than marvelous. Sometimes I almost believe they will be fit for a championship match. Then I discover that I’ve been carried away by that confounded Meadow-Brook enthusiasm. It’s as catching as the plague, old chap.”
“Well, we’re all obliged to you for what you’ve done, P. E.”
“My boy, it isn’t Earlington Disbrow who has done it; it is the young women themselves. You can’t make tennis players out of unavailable material. About all I have done, besides giving them some technical points, has been to keep them at work. They would have done that just the same had I been on the other side of the ocean. At times they show excellent form; then again they fall off without any reason that I am able to discover. In two or three years from now we’ll hear from the Meadow-Brook Girls, but I should say it would take all that time to make champions of them, in spite of their unshaken determination to win out.”
“How are you going to pair them off when we get to the tournament?” The Englishman had announced his intention of witnessing all the matches at Newtown.
“That I have not fully decided. I may do it in a way that you won’t approve,” smiled Disbrow.
“You are the doctor, we are the patients,” nodded George. “Well, at any rate, it has been worth the price of admission to have you up here with us, and I shall never forget what you’ve done for us, and for me especially.”
“Chop it, old chap! You jolly well know the shoe is on the other foot. Besides, I’ve had some much needed practice on my own account. I am fit as a fiddle now, ready to take on any matches that may be arranged for me. This has been a great vacation for me.” The speaker expanded his chest, inhaling deeply of the air that was heavy with the odor of the pines.
“Were I to remain up here all summer I think I might gain something of the endurance that those young women possess. It’s wonderful, as I have said before.”
Four weeks had elapsed since the arrival of P. Earlington Disbrow. During that time real work had been done in the camp of the Meadow-Brook Girls. They had practised early and late, and when not actually at practice were listening to words of wisdom, born of the experience of a world champion. Now they possessed a theoretical knowledge of the game that was barely second to that of Disbrow himself. They had learned to serve drop curves, over-head curves, to place the tennis ball almost with the accuracy of rifle fire; they had with varying degrees of success become able to accomplish the difficult twist service, so puzzling to the novice, much as would be the well-known curves of the baseball player to one who did not understand them; their foot work had improved, they had been taught to conserve their energies, to leap from the toes in springing to meet a ball—in fact, had been coached in all the little delicate arts of the game that had already made their instructor famous wherever tennis was played.
And now the period of their work in camp had come to an end. Only five days remained before the opening of the tournament at Newtown, where they would either win recognition or suffer humiliating defeat. Harriet still persisted in her belief in herself and her companions. Disbrow did not seek to shake that confidence, being well aware that without it they had better remain out of the contest entirely.
It had been planned that he was to meet them at Newtown three days hence. He wished them to play a set over each of the courts, but they were not to do anything like the hard work they had been doing on the court in the pine woods, nor were they to touch a racquet during the days between then and the time they reported at Newtown. This had been the champion’s strictest injunction to them.
The girls were to go home to arrange their clothing. After no little discussion it had been decided that they were to wear their regular Camp Girl uniforms, minus the beads. These costumes, being especially arranged for freedom of muscular play and comfort, were ideal for the purpose, except that they were of blue serge, while all the other players would be dressed in white. This would mean that the figures of the Meadow-Brook Girls would stand out from all the rest, which might prove a disadvantage when standing before the nets. Harriet understood this well, but she had been determined on the Camp Girl uniform for reasons of her own, which she did not confide to her companions nor to the Tramp Boys.
Jane had been to town and brought her automobile. The camp had been struck by the boys and packed ready for the wagon that was coming from town to take them home. The girls and Mr. Disbrow were to return in Jane’s car, he to go on to Boston that evening. They were holding their last meeting in the old camping place, which, now that they were about to leave, seemed dearer than ever to them. None of that little party would ever forget the weeks spent in that clearing in the pine woods. The summer vacation that had opened so tamely bade fair to close in a giddy whirl of excitement. It had already been full to overflowing with activity and accomplishment.
“Remember, you are to follow out my directions regarding the care of yourselves between now and the time I see you again, young ladies,” reminded Mr. Disbrow.
“I shall be on hand early and look over the practice of the other contestants. I may be able to offer you some suggestions as to what to do or what not to do after I have seen some of the other contestants in action. As for my share in your training, it will be well for you to forget that. From now on you are to be placed upon your own responsibility.”
“You are asking an impossibility,” replied Harriet. “Whatever may follow, we owe you a debt of gratitude that nothing can ever repay, both you and the boys.”
“Go in and win. That will be payment enough,” answered Mr. Disbrow with a light laugh.
“That is what we are going to do,” replied Harriet earnestly.
He did not contradict her. He knew in his own mind that the Meadow-Brook team could not carry off the cup. The most that could be hoped for was one of the smaller prizes. If they stood up under the grilling of the first few games, they would have done remarkably well. He should call that achievement worth while, let alone winning the cup.
About the middle of the forenoon the wagon came up from town and the boys began loading the equipment, after which they were to take up their own camp. The tennis racquets the girls had kept with them. They had chosen their racquets after trying out all weights, Harriet finally choosing a fourteen-ounce racquet, an unusually heavy weight for a woman player. Mr. Disbrow had advised against this heavy weight, but after observing her work with this and then with a lighter one approved her choice. Harriet, though slight, was very strong, and under the practice on the court her wrists had become as pliant as steel.
They placed their smaller belongings in the car and got in, then, with shouts of good-bye to the boys and to the camp, turned their faces homeward.
The news had traveled abroad in Meadow-Brook that the Meadow-Brook Girls were to take part in the Coast Tournament, which entry caused no little interest. It had not been known that the girls played tennis at all. Some little argument had been necessary to gain the permission of the girls’ parents, but Miss Elting had taken the matter in hand, and in the end won their consent. Not only this, but the parents were arranging to go to Newtown to see the tournament.
The plans of the party embraced some unusual features. They were to make camp and live in tents, cooking their own food, living their regular outdoor life just the same as if they were encamped in the woods. Mr. Disbrow approved of this. Any change in their method of living might affect them adversely, and the girls were thankful for his approval.
That afternoon, after the girls had taken their instructor to each of their homes and introduced him to their parents, Disbrow boarded a train for Boston. He had skilfully evaded the direct questions of the parents as to what chances the girls had to win. Tommy’s father was delighted at the opportunity presented to her. Whether or not she won anything, it would be of great benefit to his little daughter, who, from a delicate girl, had developed into a muscular young woman.
True to their promise, the girls did no practising, though in her room at home, using the wall to receive the ball under her light touches, Harriet studied out problems of service. It was not practice, according to her reasoning; it was study. But most of her time was occupied in sewing and in performing her regular duties about the house, which she persisted in doing despite her mother’s protestations.
In the meantime the Tramp Boys had moved, bag and baggage, to Newtown. They not only had taken their own equipment, but that of the Meadow-Brook Girls as well. George, after consultation with Mr. Herrington, would decide on a site for the camp, which, owing to his acquaintance with the manager of the tournament, would be almost any site the captain chose. George was very fortunate in his friends, and he never hesitated to use them, being fully as ready and willing to be used himself whenever he could be of service. Then, again, in the present instance he felt a proprietary interest beyond the ordinary one of friendship. It was his team, as he chose to call it. He had made the entry, he would be responsible for the Meadow-Brook Girls’ appearance on the courts in the tournament. He had no great hopes now of their winning the cup, but he did believe the Meadow-Brook pluck and endurance would land them in a position some little distance from the tail-end of the procession of defeated contestants.
On the third morning the girls were up early, for they were to make an early start for Newtown, nearly three hours’ drive by motor car from their home town. As usual, they were to be accompanied by Miss Elting. No other persons accompanied them. The parents were not to go on until the day the tournament was to open. Their personal belongings and their precious racquets were stowed in the car and in the luggage trunk that was strapped on behind. It was a new car that Jane’s father had purchased for her to take the place of the one lost in the ice pond on that fateful night the year previous, when Harriet had narrowly escaped drowning.
Their departure was a quiet one. The car simply called at the homes of the girls and picked them up as if they were just going out for a pleasure drive. Tommy was the only nervous one in the party. Jane was full of merry chatter, Buster grumbling, as usual, and Harriet silent and thoughtful.
“Well, we’re off for the killing,” announced Jane, after having picked up the last of her passengers and started on her way. “And that’s not saying who it is that’s going to be killed,” she added with a chuckle.
CHAPTER XVI
IN CAMP ON THE BATTLE FIELD
Newtown, as already mentioned, was a summer resort. There were many fine summer homes, excellent bathing, a limited number of hotels, and a large population of fashionable summer visitors.
This year the tournament had excited more than ordinary interest because arranged wholly for women. Not a man was to take part in any event, though most of the teams were managed by relatives or family friends. That it was to be a bitter fight was evident from the activity of the preparations and the care with which the various minor officials had been chosen. A very large attendance was promised and it was believed that some future champions would be developed from the contest. This, as a matter of fact, was the fond hope of Jack Herrington, the manager, who had arranged this unusual tournament. One team from which much was expected was a club of girls from the summer colony, fashionable young women who had spent some years playing tennis.
This latter club consisted of four girls, just as did the Meadow-Brook entry. One pair was entered as “The Fifth Avenues,” the other as “The Riversides.” All their practising had been done on the private court belonging to one of the girls, so that no one outside of the few on the inside really knew what they were doing. Then there were other clubs from various parts of the State. One team from Portsmouth, the Scott Sisters, were known to be among the most expert tennis players in the ranks of the younger players, and among those who claimed to know, it was believed that the Scott Sisters were sure winners, provided the Fifth Avenues and the Riversides did not carry off the cup. There was just enough mystery in the entries of the latter to cause a great deal of speculation and arouse keen interest.
Jane McCarthy and her passengers arrived in Newtown at eleven o’clock in the forenoon of the day on which they had left home. Their arrival attracted no attention, for the girls were unknown to the residents of Newtown. Jane did not know where to go. Harriet called a halt and soon learned where the office of the manager was. They repaired there at once, only to find that he was out on the tennis field. They were directed how to get there and drove away in search of it.
The tennis field was located on the outskirts of the town in an open field. The nets were not yet in place, but men were working on the courts, packing these down with hand rollers in some instances, in others chalking out the lines, taking measurements, working on the covered stand where seats were held at high prices for such spectators as wished to be under cover and out of the direct rays of the sun. The girls were directed to the manager. They waited while Harriet went over to speak to him.
“So you are one of the Meadow-Brook Girls, eh?” he exclaimed, extending a cordial hand. “George Baker has told me all about you. You look as though you could give a good account of yourself.”
“Thank you.”
“Where are your friends?”
“In Miss McCarthy’s car yonder. We drove over from Meadow-Brook this morning. Do you know whether Mr. Baker has made our camp or not?”
“He has,” answered Herrington, regarding the brown-faced young woman keenly, pleased both with her manner and her apparently splendid condition.
“Will you kindly direct me to it?”
“With pleasure, Miss Burrell. The camp is pitched just within the edge of those trees at the far side of the field yonder,” pointing to a grove. “You are the only contestants who, so far as I am aware, are camping out. Baker tells me that you prefer it. I consider it an excellent idea, provided the weather is good.”
“Oh, we do not mind bad weather. We are quite well used to all kinds,” answered Harriet, her face lighting up in a happy smile. “Are any of the other players here?”
“None of those from out of town so far as I know. Some of them may be staying with friends. None has reported to me. I should like to meet your companions if you have no objection.”
“They will be glad to know you,” answered Harriet, turning back toward the car, with Mr. Herrington walking beside her. The manager was presented to Miss Elting and each of the Meadow-Brook Girls in turn. He said he knew Grace Thompson’s father quite well and that he also knew Mr. McCarthy by reputation.
“I thought I was the only member of our family who had a reputation,” blurted out Jane. “Between myself and the motor car pretty nearly every one in our part of the State has met disaster. Is that our camp over yonder?”
“Yes,” answered Herrington, with an amused smile.
“May I drive the car over?”
“You may. But please go around the outside edge of the field so as not to cut up the turf near the courts. We have spent some weeks on these grounds, and are naturally very careful of them.”
“It is a very beautiful field,” remarked the guardian admiringly. “I see there are no nets up. When will you stretch them?”
“Any time you may wish after to-day. I suppose you have reference to practice?”
“Yes.”
“All shall have opportunity to accustom themselves to the various courts, for until the drawings I cannot say what teams will play on certain courts. The singles are to be played off first. We are reserving the doubles until the last because there is greater interest in these, and by holding them until the last we shall hold the attendance as well. You see there is a business side to this tournament, a side that is not wholly unselfish.”
“Of course,” agreed Miss Elting. “Have you many entries?”
“In the doubles? Yes, there are twenty entries. I imagine there will not be quite so many as that on the second day of the double events,” added Mr. Herrington. “George Baker has been scouting for news; he is a regular sleuth. He will tell you all about it. You will find him at the camp; his own camp is farther back in the woods. And, by the way, I have given him permission to pitch a dressing tent just beyond the last court on that side. He will not do that until just before the doubles are called. Any of the other players who desire it may have the same privilege. I hadn’t thought of it until Baker suggested the idea, which is a good one. Next year we shall do this ourselves. I hope you may be with us then.”
“It is quite likely that we shall,” answered Harriet.
“Then you are quite confident of the result this year?”
“We are going to do our best,” replied Harriet Burrell modestly. “We are new at the game. Five weeks ago we practically knew nothing of the game. What we have done has been done within that time.”
“I wish you luck, my dear young ladies, but you will find yourselves in pretty hot company for girls of your limited experience at the nets. Most of the contestants have been playing for years at home, though very few of them, I believe, have ever participated in a public match.”
“I am glad to hear it,” said the Meadow-Brook Girl with a smile. This was good news to Harriet Burrell and she stowed it away in her mind for future consideration.
“Mr. Baker tells me that Earlington Disbrow is a friend of yours and that he is coming down here from Boston to-morrow.”
“Yes, Mr. Disbrow has been good enough to take an interest in our work,” answered Miss Elting innocently. “We shall be glad to see an old acquaintance again.”
Mr. Herrington bowed low, expressing his pleasure at having met so renowned a party as the Meadow-Brooks, and, requesting that they call upon him for anything in his power to grant, returned to his supervision of the courts.
As they neared the edge of the wood the tents began to stand out more plainly. These were just within the edge of the grove. Out in the field a short distance from the edge of the grove they saw a number of khaki-clad boys at work. So busy were the latter that up to this time they had failed to observe the approach of the motor car.
Jane blew her horn. The boys heard and recognized the sound.
“It’s the Meadow-Brooks!” shouted George Baker. “Give ’em a cheer, fellows. Hurrah!”
The boys tossed their hats in the air and whooped so loudly that the men at work on the courts at the opposite end of the field paused in their work to look and listen. The Meadow-Brook Girls answered with their club yell, the car came to a stop in front of the boys and the girls hopped out. Hand-shaking was the order of the day for the next few minutes, during which the girls were overwhelmed with questions.
“Fit as fiddles all around,” declared George after a critical look into the smiling face of each girl. “Miss Brown is the only soft one in the party.”
“I’m not soft,” flung back Margery indignantly. “I’d have you know that. You ought to know it without my telling you.”
“Don’t get angry over it, Miss Margery,” answered George laughingly. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. What I meant was that you were not in the pink of condition like the other girls. They have been in training for some weeks, you know, so you could not be expected to come up to them.”
Buster, somewhat mollified, smiled and sat down. The girls glanced about them inquiringly.
“What are you boys doing here?” demanded the guardian, glancing curiously about her.
“Oh, Miss Elting, they are making a practice court,” cried Harriet.
“Why, boys, you shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble. The games come on the day after to-morrow and we shall have very little use for a court. Then, again, you have peeled off the sod. Why couldn’t we have practised on a grass court for the short time?” asked the guardian. “Of course we appreciate this, just as we do everything you have done for us, but you have done altogether too much.”
“In the first place,” replied George, “all you will wish to do on the courts out there is to warm up, to limber up. You will wish to practise some of your fancy strokes, which you can do here without any one observing you. We shall see to that. We shall stand guard and not let any one near the court while you girls are at work. The reason we peeled the sod is that you will play on a hard court in the contest. To play on a grass court here for practice might undo all you have accomplished thus far with regard to foot work. I know P. E. would agree with me in that.”
“Hathn’t George got a head to be proud of?” demanded Tommy. “I withh I had a head like hith, only much more beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Captain George bowed with great ceremony, as though deeply appreciative of this rather doubtful compliment.
“You do think of everything, George,” remarked Harriet. “You are right, too. This court will be of no little assistance to us for the finishing touches. I have some new strokes that I have thought out, strokes that I should like to try without any one’s observing me. Come, let’s look at the tents.”
There were two of these, one for Miss Elting, the other for the girls. The boys had given the guardian one of their small camping tents. The girls uttered exclamations of surprise when they entered the tent. Everything was arranged with as much taste as they themselves could have shown. In addition to this the interiors of the two tents were decorated with cedar boughs that the lads had gathered by the wayside on their way to Newtown. On the two end poles crossed tennis racquets had been fastened with a tennis ball in the crotch formed by each pair of racquets. In the center of the girls’ tent was a small folding table covered with a scarf that George had borrowed from his mother, and on the center of the table stood a pitcher filled with roses.
“Oh, you boys, you boys!” exclaimed Miss Elting, her eyes shining happily. In her own tent she found a similar condition.
The girls looked their deep appreciation rather than expressing it in mere words.
“I am going to put up a dressing tent for you before the games,” said George.
“Yes, Mr. Herrington told us,” answered Harriet.
“Oh, then you’ve met Jack? There won’t be much in the tent but a few blankets and a cot. You will appreciate that tent when you have a rest between sets. We shall have water there for bathing your faces to help you cool off. I think we are in for some roasting weather.”
“Anybody would think this was a prize fight that was about to be fought,” declared Sam abruptly. George fixed him with a rebuking glance.
“I see a great deal is expected of us,” replied Harriet seriously. “If we do not do our best, we are unworthy of such friendship. But, George, you know what I promised you before we even began to practise—that we are going to win. I repeat that statement now, and I mean every word of it.”
“That is the talk,” said George, but inwardly he groaned. He knew in his own mind that it was beyond the power of Harriet and her fellow-players to carry off the cup. “You don’t want to practise to-day, do you?”
“Perhaps late in the afternoon,” answered Harriet.
“Then I’ll tell you what let’s do,” suggested Dill enthusiastically. “Let’s all go down to the beach for a swim in the surf.”
“Fine! Come on, darlin’s,” cried Jane.
“Oh, yeth, let’th go,” urged Tommy.
“I do not think it would be wise,” answered Harriet reflectively. “I should dearly love a swim, but I do not think it prudent. We might catch a little cold or stiffen our muscles or something of the sort. We have too much at stake to take any chances. I for one shall not go in the surf and I hope none of you girls will.”
“Harriet is right,” answered George approvingly.
“Yes, she is,” agreed Miss Elting. “But you haven’t told us the news. Mr. Herrington said you knew a lot about what had been going on here.”
George’s face took on a more serious expression.
“I’ve turned up a few facts,” he said.
“I suppose it is all settled as to who is going to win the championship cup?” said Harriet with a smile.
He nodded.
“That’s what they say. They say that the championship lies between the Scott Sisters and the two pairs known as the Fifth Avenues and the Riversides.”
“Have you seen them play?” asked Harriet.
“No. But I got hold of a fellow I know who has seen them play a number of times. He says they are wonders, regular Indians with the racquets. I’ve got Charlie Mabie scouting now. He will bring back the news.”
“I hope you will not do anything that isn’t quite right, George,” said Miss Elting deprecatingly.
The captain shook his head.
“No. You’ll find they will be doing the same thing here, or trying to. They will get a hard bump if they do,” he added under his breath. “But you do want to look alive for those Scott Sisters. From all I can learn, they are regular professionals, and those who have seen them play in other matches say they are mighty tricky players.”
“You mean dishonest?” questioned Harriet.
“Well, you might call it that. I mean they would be if they could get away with it. But even so, a player sometimes can turn a trick that isn’t fair and not be caught at it, or else is able to convince the umpire that she didn’t do anything unfair.”
“Nothing of the sort will be done by this team,” declared Harriet Burrell firmly. “But though we shall play fairly, we shall go in prepared to fight to the bitter end, to fight every inch of the way until either we drive our opponents off the court or are driven off of it ourselves.”
“Hurrah! That’s certainly the real hero talk,” shouted Sam.
“Will you please keep still,” admonished George. “I was about to say that I haven’t learned anything of interest about the other teams entered for the doubles. In fact, not much of anything is known here. All of them will be here to-morrow. Perhaps Herrington told you that the singles are to be played off first. Some of the girls in those are to play in the doubles also. You ought to be able to get pointers by watching them play in the singles, learning their tricks and so on.”
“That will be helpful,” agreed Harriet.
“What do you wish to do now, sit down and rest?” questioned the captain.
“We must go back to town and get our food supplies,” answered the guardian. “Will you come with us, George?”
“Yes, thank you. I was going to propose that you go over to town with me. There’s something there that I want to show you. Oh, you’ll be delighted when you see it.”
CHAPTER XVII
THE CUP THAT LURED
The girls lost no time in getting into Jane’s car, accompanied by Captain Baker, who sat on the front seat with the driver. They drove slowly around the edge of the field, thence out into the street, observed by Jack Herrington with a quizzical smile on his face.
“There is as fine a set of girls as I ever saw,” he reflected. “I shouldn’t be surprised if they were heard from at the nets one of these days. But five weeks’ practice and entering the hottest amateur tournament we’ve ever had on the coast!” he muttered. “I ought to ask them to withdraw their entry, but I couldn’t do it when that Miss Burrell looked at me with that unflinching, searching gaze of hers.” He laughed as he saw Jane and her car enveloped in a cloud of dust. Then the Meadow-Brook car disappeared around the corner.
“That one certainly can drive a car, even if she can’t play tennis,” he added.
In the meantime the automobile was speeding through the town, scattering pedestrians right and left, Jane unheeding the guardian’s urgent demands that she drive more slowly. Jane was in a hurry to learn what it was that Captain George Baker had in store for them. They were eager to know about this latest surprise.
“I hope you are not getting us into more trouble, Captain,” Miss Elting called to him.
“It spells trouble for some one,” answered the captain. “No, this is no other game I am trying to play on you. You have game enough on hand as it is.”
“I should say we have,” answered the guardian, her face taking on a thoughtful expression, little lines of perplexity forming on her forehead. “Indeed we have, and to spare.”
George directed Jane into the main business street of the town.
“Do you wish to get your supplies first?” asked the captain.
“No!” cried the girls with one accord, “we want the surprise.”
“You shall have it. Pull up before that red brick building you see on the left there, Miss Jane. We will get out there.”
They got down hurriedly. They could not imagine what this new surprise might be. George led them to the sidewalk, passers-by glancing inquiringly at the brown-faced girls as well as at their distinctive blue uniforms, which a few persons recognized as belonging to the Meadow-Brook Girls’ organization. The captain stepped across the walk to the window of a jewelry store, where he halted and pointed.
“There is the surprise,” he said, his eyes sparkling, his face flushed.
At first the girls’ eyes wandered over the glittering array of costly articles displayed in the window, their glances finally coming to rest on a centerpiece that stood out and above all the rest. That something was a massive silver cup, standing fully eighteen inches high. The cup stood by itself, on a black velvet mat. There was a massive silver handle on either side. Then they saw that it was a trophy. A tennis net worked out in silver decorated the lower part of the cup; above the net were two crossed racquets and a ball, all in solid silver.
Still further up on the swell, cut deeply into the polished surface were the words, “Atlantic Coast Tennis Association Trophy for Girls Under Eighteen. Doubles. Won by ——”
It was a Massive Silver Cup.
“Ohh-h-h!” breathed the girls in a delighted chorus.
“Isn’t it perfectly lov—e—ly?” gasped Buster.
“Why, it must be worth a great deal of money,” cried Hazel.
“Yes, it is very beautiful and very expensive,” agreed the guardian. “That, Meadow-Brook Girls, is the prize for which you are to play. Isn’t it worth going after?”
“Indeed, it is,” agreed Jane McCarthy, really overcome by the magnificence of the trophy cup.
“Won’t that look perfectly stunning on our center tables?” exclaimed Buster.
“Our thenter tableth!” exploded Tommy. “You aren’t in the match at all. Jutht remember that, Buthter.”
“No, but she is one of us and will share all the glory as well as the disappointments of the Meadow-Brook Girls,” answered Harriet reprovingly. “Where shall we put it, girls?”
“My father will want it on hith library table, where he can look at it until hith eyethight failth him,” answered Tommy.
“But we shall all want it in our homes,” declared Jane. “How are we going to arrange that?”
“We might split the cup into five parts and each take a piece home,” suggested Hazel.
“No, that won’t do. I’ll tell you how we shall arrange it, girls,” planned Harriet enthusiastically.
“Yeth, Harriet knowth what to do,” said Tommy, nodding her tow-head rapidly. “Thhe alwayth knowth everything.”
“First, we shall place it on exhibition in that jewelry store on Sycamore Street at home. We shall want everybody to see it, and we shall be very proud.”
“Yeth, and we’ll thtand inthide the thtore and lithten to what they thay about uth, won’t we?” bubbled Tommy.
“Then, after a day or two, we shall draw lots to see who has it in her home first. In the beginning each shall keep it for a day until it goes the rounds of all our homes. On the next round each shall keep it for two days and so on, every round adding a day up to a month. A month will be long enough for any girl to have it in her home at a stretch. I’ll tell you what we will do, we will each put in a little money that we shall earn, and buy one of those black marble pedestals that are used to hold statues. Then we can stand the precious cup in the window so people passing may see it.”
“And, of course, we must write to our friends and announce the good news,” reminded Hazel Holland.
“I know one person, at least, who will be glad to hear of our triumph,” declared Harriet. “Grace Harlowe will be delighted to learn that we’ve qualified as champion tennis players.”
“And so will her friends, Nora O’Malley and Anne Pierson and Jessica Bright,” chimed in Marjory. “We never dreamed, when we met those nice girls on our return from the mountains that we’d all become such friends, did we?”