by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER VIII ON THE SERVICE LINE
Clasping hands, the Tramp Boys formed a ring about Harriet, Sam among thenumber, and danced and sang as they swung about her, to all of which sheprotested laughingly.
"Save your congratulations until after we have practised for a few weeks.We shall be better able to judge then what the prospects are."
"But you said you were going to win," cried Dill, excitedly. "You knowyou did."
"I still say so," returned Harriet Burrell.
"Then don't give us shivers up and down our backs by such statements as'save your congratulations,'" advised Billy. "We'll congratulate now andcry later if we have to. Let's start in practising at once."
"Not to-night. The girls are getting supper. Besides, it is too late inthe day; they couldn't see the ball," answered George. "To-morrow, too,Sam's nose will be better. He wouldn't enjoy seeing a game now, anyway."
"I'd enjoy seeing them play any old time, but you'll excuse me if I getbehind a tree somewhere when the serving and the volleying are going on.Once is enough for me, especially when Sister Tommy is on the line. Come,fellows, come home and get my supper."
"Yes, please do, boys," urged Harriet. "I want to think. You will agreethat we have several things to think over between now and to-morrow, anda number of things to talk over together, too."
Captain Baker shook hands with her.
"I won't try to tell you how much we appreciate what you've done," hesaid with feeling. "I knew all along that you could do it if you would,but I had almost given up all hope that you'd try. I might have known youwould. Meadow-Brook Girls always come to the line when the time arrives.You will in this instance, too."
Harriet smiled, but made no reply to this confident remark.
"I thank you, too, for fixing my nose," said Sam, shaking hands with MissElting. "It's a pretty poor nose at its best, I know, but it's the onlyone I have and I couldn't get along very well without it. Good night,ladies. I'll say more when I can do so without danger of damaging mycountenance."
The boys trooped away singing. They were far happier than they had beensince George Baker first broached the subject of the tennis tournament.After the sound of their voices had died away, Harriet sat down by thefire, and, clasping her hands about her knees, gazed into it withoutsaying a word to her companions. She remained in that position until thesupper call was sounded.
"Well, my dear, have you planned it all out?" questioned Miss Elting.
"Far from it, Miss Elting. I am beginning to realize that it is a prettybig thing I have promised to do, and I shall need the help andencouragement of every one of you girls even to keep my spirits up toconcert pitch."
"Oh, fiddlethtickth!" scoffed Tommy.
"I think we have forgotten one important factor," reminded Miss Elting;"that is, the consent of your parents."
"No, I have not overlooked that. I shall get the consent of each girl'sparents as soon as I find there is any necessity for it."
The guardian nodded.
"I can't see how you can hope even to get a place in the tournament.Tennis is a game of skill requiring years to make one proficient, and howyou can expect to get into shape to play in a tournament five weeks henceis beyond me."
Harriet laughed lightly.
"I am glad to hear you offer objections. That is exactly what I need tostir me up. That no one else could hope to accomplish this thing is thevery reason why I have decided to attempt it. And I, for one, am going towin," she added reflectively.
"I actually believe you think you will," exclaimed the guardian.
"Of course I do. Otherwise I should not try."
Miss Elting regarded Harriet thoughtfully for some time, then sighed andgave it up. Of course, the subject was discussed among the girls all therest of the evening, Harriet most of the time remaining in the backgroundand listening to the remarks of the guardian and her own companions. Thegeneral trend of the conversation was that the Meadow-Brook Girls stoodnot even a ghost of a chance to win anything in the tournament. Theywould be fortunate if, after the first set, they were not barred fromfurther participation. Harriet had already expressed her opinion and fromthat time on her whole thought would be to play to win. If she failed, itwould be through no lack of belief in herself, no lack of effort on herpart to perfect herself. She determined to turn her face to the front andnever once look back. That was what she did on the following morning.
The boys came trooping in at an early hour, but early as they were, thegirls were ready for them, with the morning work all cleared away andHarriet and Hazel at work at the net industriously tossing the ball backand forth.
"That's the idea," declared George glowingly. "I told the boys we shouldfind you at work."
"Oh, good morning, boys," greeted Harriet. "How is your poor nose thismorning, Sam!"
"It is all there still, but I can't smell with it yet. Why, do you knowmy breakfast was spoiled for me because I couldn't get the odor of thebacon and coffee. I wish some one would tell me how to smell through mymouth."
"I'll think about it to-night," answered Harriet mischievously. "I wasgoing to suggest that you boys play a game of tennis while we look on. Iam sure we shall get some pointers from your playing."
"Miss Elting, will you play a set with me?" asked George.
"With pleasure, though I am but an indifferent player."
"I guess you can handle a racquet as well as I can."
"Then let us get at it. We have no time to lose. Every minute is preciousfrom now on for the coming five weeks."
George chose a racquet. They began to play a few minutes later. It wasplain that they were evenly matched, though George appeared to be alittle more skilful than his opponent. The girls were enthusiastic, theboys sitting on the side lines offering suggestions to both players fromtime to time. Harriet Burrell never spoke a word throughout the game.Instead, she watched every play with keen eyes, gaining no littleknowledge of the principles of the game from such observation.
George won the first set by a narrow margin. Miss Elting had made himwork for it, fighting him every inch of the way. While her playing wasgood, it was not what might be called skilful. She played such a game asmight be expected of a country player.
"Want to try another with me? No? Who else wishes to put himself up as aneasy mark for me?"
"That's it--easy mark," chuckled Sam. "Any other kind would win the gamebefore you really got started."
"Lucky for us that George isn't going to try to defend the Meadow-Brooktitle," scoffed Dill.
"Harriet, suppose you try a set with me this morning?" proposed George.
Harriet stepped forward. George, standing beside her, gave her suchadvice as he was able, regarding serving, volleying and position in thecourt.
The game started, the boys and girls pressing close about the court, notvery much interested in George Baker's playing, but watching eagerlyevery stroke Harriet made. Was not she going to play in the tournament?Harriet worked hard, worked until the beads of perspiration stood out onher forehead, but she was awkward, she was uncertain in placing the ball,sending it out of bounds fully as often as she dropped it within reach ofher opponent. George won easily.
"You are the worst I ever saw," declared Sam very frankly. "You couldn'twin a game in a thousand years."
"Keep quiet," commanded George. "We can't all be champions the first daywe stand before a net. Give her a chance, can't you?"
"Oh, I don't mind Sam's criticism," answered Harriet brightly. "Insteadof discouraging me, it makes me all the more determined to learn toplay."
"And only five weeks to learn in," groaned Billy.
"And a wooden man to teach her," mumbled Sam.
"Any fellow who is so slow that he can't dodge a racquet shouldn'tcriticise his betters," retorted George cuttingly. "Before we go anyfurther I shall deliver a lecture. The ladies will please give theirattention while I explain a few of the terms. A 'volley,' as you know, ishitting th
e ball before it touches the ground. The 'server' is the onewho hits the ball from behind his base line and at one side of the centerdiagonally over the net into his opponent's service court. Understand?"
The girls nodded, but did not interrupt by speaking.
"The one who serves the ball is called 'the server,' his opponent 'thestriker-out.' In the first play, as I think I have already told you, theball must hit the ground before being returned. The latter stroke iscalled a 'ground stroke.' There are some other fancy strokes that I haveseen, but can't explain to you. I'll have some one who knows more aboutthe game than I do tell you about these later on."
"I don't believe we quite understand how the scoring is done," saidHarriet.
"That is easily explained. In the first place, four points make a gameunless the score is tied at three points each, when two points insuccession must be secured to win the game."
"But how are they scored?" interjected Jane.
"I'm trying to tell you," answered George. "They are scored as follows:'love,' or no points; fifteen, or one point; thirty, or two points;forty, or three points; game, or four points. Love-all, fifteen-all,thirty-all are called when the score is even, each side having nothing orone or two points, as the case may be. At forty-all the score is called'deuce,' each side having three points, and as either side secures thenext point it becomes 'vantage-in' or 'vantage-out' according to whetherserver or striker has the advantage."
"My grathiouth! you make my head thwim," murmured Tommy.
"Then the score hovers between vantage and deuce until one side securestwo points in succession," explained Miss Elting.
"Yes," agreed George, nodding. "And six games won by either sideconstitute a set unless the score is tied at five-all, whendeuce-and-advantage games are generally played, the score going on up tosix, seven, eight-all and so forth until one side gets two successivegames."
"Isn't it awful?" wailed Margery. "I never, never can get all of thatinto my head."
"That ith becauthe you are fat," retorted Tommy. "You know a lot, don'tyou, George?"
"If he could play half as well as he can talk about it, he'd be thechampion player of the United States," declared Dill.
They began another game, Jane taking Harriet's place this time. Jane wasfully as awkward as Harriet had been, but she made a somewhat bettershowing, playing to better advantage. Hazel and Tommy played the sameawkward game that had marked Harriet Burrell's exhibition. One afteranother took her place on the service line, over and over again, thiscontinuing all through the forenoon until half-past eleven, when Georgeannounced that they must go back to camp and get their noon meal. Theydeclined to stay to luncheon with the girls. Besides, George said FredAvery had gone to town to bring some supplies that were needed and theywere to meet him at the camp.
George was gloomy all the way back to camp. He did not speak a word tohis companions, but tramped along looking deeply dejected.
"Well, what do you think of it?" demanded Dill quizzically.
"What do I think of it? Hopeless--utterly hopeless!" groaned CaptainGeorge. "Did you ever see such work in all your life?"
"I never did," agreed Dill. "It was bad."
"Then you don't think they stand any show to win any of the prizes in thetournament?" questioned Dodd.
"None at all. The way they play they couldn't win a game from a team ofsix-year-old boys. And what is worse, they don't realize what a spectaclethey are making of themselves trying to play. But they're plucky. We allknew they were. They will keep on fighting, and in the end we shall haveto tell them there isn't the least show. I'll have to go to Herrington,after all, and tell him that they can't enter the tournament."
"If we had some one who knew something to teach them how to play, thingsmight be different," declared Sam Crocker maliciously. "Maybe a miraclewill happen."
"Miracles don't happen in these woods. And what's more, I want you tounderstand that I know how to play tennis fully as well as you do. It'shopeless, though. I wonder why Fred hasn't got back yet? Go on and getyour luncheon ready. I don't want anything to eat."
George walked off into the woods and sat down on a log, holding his headin his hands, now and then uttering a deep sigh. It was he who hadproposed this surprise, he who had urged upon the boys the purchase ofthe tennis outfit, so he received no sympathy from them. But to theircredit be it said, the boys of the Tramp Club felt as much concerned overthe failure of their well-laid plans as did Captain George Baker himself.
George stuck to his determination not to eat anything. He remained in thewoods until long after the boys had finished their luncheon and had cometo look for him.
"Are you going back for practice?" asked Billy.
"Of course. What do you think I am?" retorted George savagely. But theafternoon was destined to bring with it a surprise that set their pulsesthrobbing, that filled them with new hope and courage.