by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER VI A DISCOURAGING TRY-OUT
"And you have done all this for us?" asked Miss Elting, stepping over andplacing a hand on the shoulder of the disconsolate George, who, sittingwith his chin in his palms, never so much as glanced up at her.
"No; just for the sake of showing you what fools fellows can make ofthemselves," he answered sourly.
"Oh, don't say that, Captain," begged Harriet, running to him. "We shallnever forget your goodness--never! It was splendid in you!"
"A real tennis net!" cried Margery. "What a lot of fun we shall have withit."
"It is a splendid outfit, too," declared Miss Elting, examining thecontents of the bundle with critical eyes; "everything complete, even toracquets, and the best to be had in the market, too. Oh, how can we thankyou? But isn't this outfit new?" she asked, a sudden thought occurring toher.
Sam nodded and smiled.
"To whom does it belong?" she continued.
He waved his hand as indicating that it was the property of the TrampClub. In the meantime George's face was taking on a deeper flush, theheel of one boot was digging more and more savagely into the turf, andhis hair, through which he had run his fingers, was standing up wildly.
"The property of the Tramp Club?" repeated the guardian.
Sam nodded, but George did not.
"When did you get it?" questioned Miss Elting.
"It came the day before yesterday," Dill informed her. "We've beenlooking for it for more than a week--we could hardly wait till it gothere. When it came, we hustled right over to Meadow-Brook, where welearned that you were out here."
"But--but you didn't carry it all the way from Meadow-Brook here, didyou?" demanded Jane.
"No, we didn't tote it," answered Sam. "We got a farmer who was on hisway out here to carry it in his wagon. We carried it up from the road,about a mile. That was far enough. We are very sorry we had all ourtrouble for nothing."
"We're _not_ sorry!" roared George. "We aren't sorry for anything we dofor the Meadow-Brook Girls. The fellow who says that isn't a Tramp by along shot."
"I--I didn't mean it just that way," apologized Sam. "You know what Imeant."
Harriet, who had been watching the faces of the boys and listening towhat was said, had already come to a certain conclusion regarding thethoughtfulness of the boys. She put that conclusion into words a fewmoments later.
"You mean that you boys bought this outfit, net, balls, racquets and all?Is that it?"
"We certainly did," cried Sam.
"Will you keep quiet?" demanded George angrily. "You ramble on and telleverything you know almost before you are asked. We got that outfit,ladies, because we wanted it and for no other reason. We thought, seeingyou were going to play in the tournament at Newtown, that you might liketo practise while you were out here. That's all there is to it. Don't payany attention to what Sam says; he isn't always responsible."
Harriet was not deceived. Neither was Miss Elting. It was plain to boththat George Baker and his fellows had purchased this tennis outfit solelyin the interest of the Meadow-Brook Girls. The guardian, knowingsomething of these matters, realized that the boys must have purchasedthe outfit at a great personal sacrifice, thus increasing her wonder andadmiration for the unselfish Tramp Club. As a matter of fact, the boyshad sacrificed their pocket money in order to get the outfit, fullyexpecting the girls to be overcome with joy. Instead of this the girlshad met them with the amazing news that they had never played a game oftennis in their lives!
"You bought it for us," reflected Harriet, with her chin in her hand,regarding the disconsolate George with thoughtful eyes.
"Suppose we purchase the outfit?" suggested Miss Elting.
Captain George sprang up, his face reflecting his indignation.
"Do you think we are that kind of fellows?" he demanded. "I beg yourpardon. I didn't mean to speak to you in that tone, Miss Elting," heapologized.
"You need not apologize. We accept your kind thoughtfulness andappreciate the spirit behind it. But it is too bad that you have had tobe so disappointed. Let me think it over and see what can be done."
"Nothing can be done," groaned George. "We're in up to our chins andwe're going in up to our eyes before we've done with it."
Tommy and Margery had taken up racquets and balls and were batting theballs about, shouting delightedly. They already had volleyed one ball offinto the bushes and lost it. Billy Burgess was down on his knees crawlingabout in the bushes in search of it. Already a hopeful spirit wasapparent in the faces of nearly all the boys and most of the girls.Harriet was thoughtful, while Miss Elting smiled her appreciation uponthe boys, of whom she was almost as fond as of her own young charges.
"I would suggest that we put up the net. Even if we aren't able to play,we shall be able to have a lot of enjoyment out of the tennis outfit,"said Harriet. "Do you object to our using it while we are here, boys?"
"Object?" George Baker was on his feet instantly, the set lines of hisface relaxing somewhat. "Well, I should say not! Do you really mean thatyou'll play over the net?"
"I don't know about playing," answered Harriet laughingly. "We will agreeto volley the balls back and forth."
"You're fooling me!" shouted George. "You said '_volley_.' No one but atennis player would know about that word. Hurrah! Put up the net,fellows. We'll see about this."
"Please do not deceive yourself," begged Harriet. "We have told you thesimple truth. We do not play. I knew the word and what it means, havingheard Miss Elting use it. But we will put up the net just the same andhave ever and ever so much fun. I'll tell you what, George. You teach ushow to play. Miss Elting will play with you. She can play."
"Indifferently," answered the guardian. "I fear I should cut but a sorryfigure with such experts as the Tramp Club, especially such an expert asMr. Baker."
"Expert! Ho-ho! Ha-ha!" chuckled Sam. "Wait till you see him play! Oh,yes, he's the original and unconquerable champion of the Granite State.Get busy, fellows. Don't stand about like a lot of wooden Indians waitingto be placed on your pedestals. There aren't any pedestals here. If therewere, you wouldn't occupy them, not while there are ladies present."
"Where shall we place the net?" asked Hazel.
"Over yonder," answered George. "You must level off the ground first,boys." He was full of new interest now. "Wait. I'll trim down the bushes,then some of you get to work and dig them up--dig up the roots, I mean.It's not exactly an ideal place for a court."
The boys fell to with a will, the girls getting to work assisting them inclearing the ground in preparation for a tennis court. Nearly an hour wasoccupied with this work, with the result that a fairly level and smoothcourt had been constructed, George having paced off the measurements sothat they were almost accurate. It would not do for the girls to learn ona court that was either too large or too small, for this would have aneffect on their playing when they came to play on a real court.
While the others were setting the net, George with a stick was busilyengaged in marking out the base line and other lines of the court. Allthis was of interest to the Meadow-Brook Girls because they did notunderstand the purpose of it. They had no idea what the lines were fornor why they should be there at all. But Harriet early began askingquestions, and by the time the markings were down she had some inkling asto their uses.
"Chalk is used to mark the lines ordinarily," explained George. "Havingno chalk, we fall back on a sharp stick. The lines aren't very plain, butplain enough, I guess, for all we shall require of them. I reckon we'llhave time to volley a few times before night," he added, consulting theskies. "I know you girls are going to give us the surprise of our younglives."
"We are," agreed Harriet, balancing a racquet on the first finger of herright hand.
"Where'd you learn to do that?" demanded the captain sharply.
"Why, I--I didn't know I was doing anything so remarkable," stammeredHarriet.
"That's a trick of expert tenn
is players to learn whether a racquet isproperly balanced. You needn't tell me you don't know anything about thegame. Sam, bring a ball here. You fellows are going to get a surprise inabout a minute and a half. Harriet, you and Hazel take your places. No,not in the middle of the court--diagonally in those squares. There. Nowplay!"
Harriet tossed up the ball and made a swing at it with the racquet. Shedid not even hit the ball. Her companions laughed merrily at herawkwardness.
"Try again. That was no stroke," said George.
Harriet tried again, sending the ball toward Hazel. Hazel struck at itwith so much force that she spun her body completely about, but she didnot hit it.
"Where is it?" cried Hazel.
"Gone where the poison ivy twineth," announced Sam solemnly. "I reckonthat ball is going yet. Woof! What a stroke!"
"Don't you know that after a service in the beginning of the game theball must first touch the ground and be taken on the first rebound?"asked Dill.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit it so hard," apologized Harriet. "Betterluck next time."
"She didn't _mean_ to hit it so hard," mocked Sam.
Billy recovered the ball after considerable hunting about in the bushes.In the meantime another ball had been pressed into service. This timeHarriet succeeded in serving it into the court of her opponent, but Hazeldid not see it coming. The ball rolled out of bounds and lay waiting tobe picked up.
"Tell me the truth, are you girls playing off?" demanded George.
"No, indeed," answered Harriet laughingly. "Is there still a lurking ideain your mind that we really do know how to play?"
"There was, up to a few moments ago. I know she doesn't," pointing toHazel. "There couldn't be any mistake about that. Nobody couldmake-believe play-off like that."
"Let me thhow them how to play," piped Tommy.
"Yes. You and Margery have a try-out," suggested Miss Elting.
Harriet and Hazel willingly gave way to their two companions. Margerystarted in by grasping the racquet firmly in both hands. George shook hishead sorrowfully.
"What do you think you are playing--baseball?" demanded Sam jeeringly."We don't bat in tennis. We hold the racquet artistically in one hand,then, when the ball meanders over into our court, we give it a genteelswat in the northeast corner; next, biff! bump! bang! Back she comesagain, just starving to death for more. Do you see?"
Miss Elting laughed merrily.
"Your description is graphic, indeed," she said. "I think Margery willhave no difficulty in returning her opponent's service after that."
"Buthter ith too fat to play anything but football," averred Tommy. "Thhewould be a thuctheth in football becauthe thhe could fall on the ball andhold it down tho nobody elthe could get it. Do I hit the ball firtht?"
"Does she hit it first?" groaned Bill. "You 'serve' it. That's the politeway to express what Sam would call the opening swat."
"Then what do I do?" questioned Margery.
Miss Elting here took a hand in the instruction.
"When your opponent serves the ball into your court, you let the ballstrike the ground, bound up into the air, then you volley it back intoyour opponent's court. Then, the ball being in play, you do not have tolet it strike the ground again unless you wish to do so."
"But how can I help its striking the ground if it wants to?" criedBuster.
George groaned dismally at this question.
"By hitting it!" he shouted. "Keep the ball going as long as there is any'go' left in it. Play!"
"Look out!" shouted Tommy, and without waiting for her opponent toprepare herself, she served the ball with a fairly well directed stroke,so accurate, in fact, that the ball sped true to its mark, hitting Bustersquarely on the nose. The hurt of it was not so great as was thesurprise. Margery staggered and fell over on her back, to theaccompaniment of shouts of laughter from both boys and girls.
"I gueth I can play," declared Tommy proudly, "but Buthter ith too fat."
"You did it on purpose," cried Margery, getting to her feet and touchingher nose gingerly with the tips of her fingers. "Is it bleeding?"
"No, it isn't bleeding," assured George sympathetically.
"If it isn't bleeding it's broken. Oh, my poor nose!"
Tommy was regarding her quizzically, her shrewd little face wrinkled intosharp lines. Tommy was very proud of her accomplishment, for did it notprove that she was very skilful and Margery not?
"I think myself that Margery is not a success at tennis," answered MissElting. "I believe you had better give it up and let Harriet and Janehave an opportunity. Jane hasn't held a racquet yet."
"No! I'll play if it kills me," declared Margery.
"That's the talk!" cried Sam. "That's the spirit that wins games andeverything else! But," he continued, addressing Tommy Thompson, "don'tyou be so violent this time, Grace. Take it more slowly to begin with.Just drop it over into the other court; send it over so slowly thatMargery cannot fail to see it. Easy as falling off a log."
"Play!" commanded George.
This time Tommy made three passes before she succeeded in hitting theball. She gave a gentle lift on the third stroke, serving it over thenet, barely missing the net itself. Margery, following Sam Crocker'sadvice, ran toward the ball making wild swings with her racquet. Luckily,ball and racquet met. Margery gave the ball a toss, but it was more theforce of her forward lunge than the stroke that sent the ball over thenet. The girl herself kept right on going. From sheer force of hermomentum she could not stop.
In the meantime Tommy had darted forward to meet the ball and volley itback into the opposite court. Just before reaching the net she stubbedher toe on a root that had been overlooked, sprawled head first into thenet, and became hopelessly entangled in its meshes.
"Thave me!" moaned Tommy.
Buster, who was still lunging forward, tripped also and plunged forwardhead first, her own head bumping Tommy's with great force.