by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER XI A BLOW THAT NEARLY KILLED GEORGE
"I don't blame you for feeling disturbed, George," comforted theguardian, "but there is still a ray of hope left here."
"Begging your pardon, there isn't even a glimmer," returned George. "Imight have known something would be sure to happen."
"May I see it?" asked Harriet. Miss Elting handed the message to her.
"Read it aloud," cried Dill. "George doesn't seem to think any one isinterested except himself. What's the matter with Disbrow? When is hecoming?"
"Isn't coming at all," answered George weakly. "Please read it."
"'George Baker, Meadow-Brook, N. H.' It is dated at New London,"explained Harriet, then continued to read the message, which was asfollows: "'Unfortunate accident. Pullman step porter set down tiltedunder foot when I was stepping from train. Landed on back with sprainedankle. Laid up perhaps two weeks. Awfully sorry. See what I can do ifcome here. Let know any change. (Signed) Disbrow.'"
"Must have thought he was writing a letter instead of sending atelegram," jeered Crazy Jane.
The boys glanced at each other and breathed deeply. Words failed themjust at that moment.
"Sprained his ankle and is laid up," reflected Jane. "He asks you to cometo see him. Are you going?"
"You must not go on our account," said Harriet Burrell. "You must notworry him with our troubles. He has plenty of his own at present. Weshall get along somehow."
"Yes, don't take it so to heart, George," urged the guardian. "We arefortunate in having you to coach us. I know you will turn us out finishedplayers at the expiration of five weeks from the time we started."
"Where is Mr. Mabie?" asked Hazel.
"I left him in town, in case there should happen to be anything more fromDisbrow. But there won't be. I know what a sprained ankle is. I had oneonce, and I don't want another. What a mess I have made of it!"
"Indeed, you have not," returned Harriet quickly. "You have done a greatdeal for us. That you have failed in this one instance is no fault ofyour own. Circumstances have been too much for you, that is all. We shallnever forget what you have done for us. We are the ones who have notmeasured up to the mark, but you will remember I told you we were goingto play in the tournament and going to win. I say it again. We are goingto WIN!"
"You will have to play a better game than you have done so far," Georgeblurted, then, realizing what he had said, made an humble apology for hisapparent rudeness.
"You are right," Harriet laughed merrily. "We shall have to play a muchbetter game, and that is what we are going to do. But we are wastingtime. Girls, get ready for practice. Captain, you sit on the boulderyonder from where you can watch us. Don't be afraid to criticise. We needyour severest criticism."
The girls ran for their racquets, Sam got the tennis balls, George pulledhimself together and stumbled over to the boulder, on which he took hisseat, but instead of watching the girls, he sunk his head in his handsand relapsed into his former gloomy mood.
"Say," said Sam, giving the captain a poke in the ribs with a thumb,"look at those girls. We aren't going to be quitters, are we?"
George hesitated a moment, then raised his head, threw back his shouldersand slid from the rock to his feet.
"You're right, Sam. For once in your life you are talking sense. Ofcourse we'll go on. I was so bitterly disappointed about Disbrow that Ilost my courage. I've found it again. If we fail now, it won't be becausewe didn't try. Prepare for the first set. No fooling now. Harriet andTommy will play together this time, opposing Jane and Hazel. We shall seewhat you can do in team work. This will be the regular set provided youcan stand it to play that long without a rest. It is time we did somegrilling." George was himself again. Harriet smiled and noddedapprovingly.
"Please do not hesitate to say what you think," she urged. "We are not sosensitive that we cannot stand listening to the truth."
"Play!"
Nearly every play for the first half of the set was a fault. Georgegroaned within himself, but was careful not to show how hopeless he feltinwardly. He worked with them until the perspiration was trickling downhis cheeks, until he was well-nigh exhausted from the nervous strain.
Along in the fourth game, however, matters began to brighten a little.Harriet and Tommy made some very good strokes. Tommy showed herself to bevery quick on her feet, though there was no certainty as to where she wasgoing to place a ball when she struck it. It was just as likely to soaroff among the bushes and be lost as it was to drop in the court of heropponents. Jane developed no little power in her strokes, but herfootwork was poor, yet a keen judge would have discovered good tennismaterial in each of the girls at the net. George, of course, was not anexpert, and these little surface indications of possibilities were loston him. He saw only faults or scores. Anything less than the latter senthis heart down into his boots, figuratively speaking.
Harriet and Tommy won the set handily, though the last game of the setwas worse played than any game since they had been practising. Ifanything, George was more discouraged than at any previous time. Tommy,however, was delighted with her own playing. The little lisping girlconsidered that she and Harriet had played a wonderful game, merelybecause they had defeated Jane and Hazel.
They were given no time in which to discuss the game. Their instructorchanged sides, placing Hazel and Harriet together, Jane and Tommy opposedto them. Harriet and Hazel won the set, the former's fast playing, thoughfull of faults, being responsible for her side getting the game.
"You are showing speed, at any rate," was George's compliment. "If I werea better coach, I might be able to push you along faster, but this is thefirst time I ever tried to teach any one to play tennis. I wish Disbrowwere here."
"Oh, forget Disbrow!" answered Sam. "We are going to win out in thistournament. I believe with Harriet that there isn't another team on thecoast that can defeat this one. They are only amateurs, girls. Probablymany of them are beginners, too."
"Don't you fool yourself about that," returned Baker. "Herrington told methey had a lot of likely entries, almost professional players, though, ofcourse, they are not that in fact. One thing I wish to call the attentionof the players to, is that Jane and Tommy played too far apart. Tommytook a position down near the net while Jane was back near the servingline. You saw how Harriet and Hazel played, both back some distance fromthe net. They won the game. Remember, it is easier to run forward andpick up a ball than it is to run backward. Play closer together and youwill put up a much better defence and run less risk of the ball passingyou. Try it this time, playing closer together."
They did, with the result that the game was much closer than the onebefore, though Harriet Burrell's side won as usual. Just why her sidealways won George Baker was at a loss to understand, for it was plainthat Harriet played a wretched game, worse, if anything, than did hercompanions.
"Will you please tell me how you did it?" questioned George afterHarriet's side had won again.
"I did not do it. Tommy and I did it together," was the naive reply. ButHarriet, awkward and unscientific as she was, had used some little trickthat got the better of her opponents. They did not appear to realizethis, but Harriet did. She knew full well, and that trick was a phase ofthe game that she proposed to cultivate and work to the limit. She wasvery sorry that they were not to be coached by Mr. Disbrow, knowing thathe could be of great assistance to her in developing this very trick.Disbrow would have understood instantly the value of it.
The play was continued with more or less discouraging results, so far asBaker was concerned, all the afternoon, with only an occasional halt forrest and such instruction as the coach was able to give them. At sundownhe threw himself down on the ground, his face red and perspiring, histhroat hoarse from yelling at his pupils, his body weary. It was thehardest day's work that George Baker had ever done, but the nervousstrain was the cause of his great fatigue rather than the physicaleffort.
"Come, fellows, we must be
getting to our own wigwam," he said, startingup suddenly.
"You are going to remain here and have supper," replied Miss Elting. "Youwere quite willing to be with us last evening when the skies were bright.Now that they are not bright it is all the more reason why you shouldstay this time. You are all fagged out and, what is worse, discouraged.We shall have a nice supper this evening, then afterward some songs andgames if you wish."
"No more games for me to-day," interrupted George, "begging your pardon."
"I did not mean tennis games. I, too, have seen enough of those for oneday. I meant other games that will relax you all. Songs are a good thing.Our players will 'go stale' with too much work. It is not a good plan, Ihave heard, to keep too steadily at it when one is preparing for acontest. Am I not right?"
George nodded. Sam smiled broadly.
"Yes, we must take care of our principals," declared the latter. "Theyare very delicate and very precious." This raised the first laugh of thatlong, trying afternoon. The boys checked their own laughter suddenly, asif they had caught themselves doing something wrong. Harriet started theMeadow-Brook yell, in which the boys joined with a shout. From thatmoment on the gloom of the day was less marked, conversation more naturaland easy.
When the supper was served on a table that the boys had made for them,they all sat down on rustic seats put together by the same skilful hands.
"Now, isn't this better than for you boys to go back to camp to mope allthe evening while we girls are doing the same here?" demanded theguardian.
"Yes; this has the other backed off the court, over the side lines intothe bushes," declared Sam.
"Otherwise, nothing but slang would quite fit the occasion, eh, Mr.Crocker?" chuckled Miss Elting. "I am not rebuking you. I have never hadand never expect to have occasion to do that to a Tramp Boy. How long isMr. Mabie to remain in town?"
"I told him to stay there until P. E. either telegraphed or wrote."
"You think there is some prospect of his coming, then, do you?"
"Not one chance in a million," answered George with emphasis. "Would you,if you had a sprained ankle? I reckon he will make the Pullman Companypay very dearly for this, though. The ankle of a tennis player is worthsomething, I should say."
"What do you think of the girls' playing now?"
"In some ways it is an improvement, but----"
"But! There is just the trouble," cried Harriet. "When we do our best yousay, 'It is very good, but----'"
"Well, isn't it?" he demanded a little sourly.
"I have not permitted myself to think of the matter in that way," repliedHarriet.
"Then you have given up hope so far as the tournament is concerned?"questioned the guardian, fixing a steady look on the face of the captain.
"I--I should hardly care to say that," stammered George, avoiding hereyes.
"But deep down in your heart you do not believe the Meadow-Brook Girlsstand the slightest chance of winning even a place in the tennistournament at Newtown?" persisted the guardian.
"Do you?" returned George.
"I am asking you, Captain Baker."
"No, I don't. There, you made me say it again. Now will you tell me whatyou think?"
"I don't know that I should put it quite so strongly as you have, butfrom what we have seen I should say the chances were not particularlybrilliant," she admitted.
"You are tho encouraging!" lisped Tommy. "Anybody who can play thuch agame ath I can to be talked about in that way! It maketh me thad, thothad and tho tired!"
"One person cannot play for the whole team, you know," said Dill, with agrin.
"Yeth, I thuppothe that ith tho. However, I will do jutht ath the otherthwithh."
"What do you say to giving it up, girls?"
Miss Elting was not smiling now, though, had they been more observant,they would have seen a suggestion of laughter in her eyes. She knew hergirls well, and perhaps was asking the question with a deeper purpose inmind than appeared on the surface.
"I say just what I have said before," answered Harriet slowly and withemphasis. "I have gone into this not for the sake of giving up, but withthe purpose to go through with it. We owe it to the boys who have done somuch for us to keep going until the end. That is what I propose to dounless I am forbidden by Miss Elting or by my parents."
"But you can't win," cried George. "You know you can't."
"What will you do if I win?"
"I'll take off my hat to you, even though I get a sunstroke doing it,"returned George, his face relaxing into a broad smile.
"You shall have the chance, for I am going to play and I am going to win.The team is going to win. That is what I mean when I say I am going to doit. Of course, I do not expect to do it alone. I know we are going to wina place. I feel it. I can't tell you just why, but I do, so you hadbetter prepare to protect yourself from sunstroke. If there are any treeswhere the tournament is to be held, by all means engage a place underone."
"They don't have trees near tennis courts. Trees throw shadows thatsometimes make the players nervous or cause them to misjudge theirdistances. No, I'll have to take my medicine and I will."
"Hark!" Jane held up a hand for silence.
"What is it?" asked Sam, with a half startled look in his eyes.
"I heard some one speak. It may have been out in the road, though."
"One couldn't hear as far as that. Besides, I am sure I heard a call,"declared Harriet.
"Some one surely is coming. I hear two voices," agreed Miss Elting."Perhaps it is Charlie Mabie returning from the village with good news."
"It may be Charlie Mabie all right, but there is nothing doing on thegood news," replied George.
"Hi, there! Hello the camp!" called the familiar voice of Charlie.
"Hello yourself," answered George.
"Come out and help me, some of you strong-armed boys. I have picked up afellow who has hurt his foot. Can't you give a poor suffering chap ahand?"
The boys sprang up, George with them. In the dim light they could faintlymake out two figures approaching them. One was Mabie, the other no onerecognized. The latter was leaning on Charlie's arm.
"'Owdy, Georgie, old chap?" called a second voice.
"What-a-at?" gasped Captain Baker. "Who is it?"
"Don't you know, old chap? Have you forgotten an old friend so soon?"
"It's P. E.! It's P. E. himself! Whoop!" Captain Baker uttered a wildyell and rushing forward threw his arms about the neck of the newcomer."Oh, P. E., P. E., you did come after all; you didn't go back on your oldsalt water friend! Girls, he's here, he's here, I tell you! Yell, youTramps! Yell, I tell you!"