The Meadow-Brook Girls on the Tennis Courts; Or, Winning Out in the Big Tournament

by Roy J. Snell

  CHAPTER X A JOY AND A DISAPPOINTMENT

  "I don't know what it's all about, but I'll yell," shouted Dill Dodd. Hedid. His companions set up a perfect bedlam of yells and howls.

  The girls regarded them with puzzled looks.

  "Have they gone crathy?" questioned Tommy apprehensively, ready to runthe instant she was thoroughly satisfied that the Tramp Boys really hadlost their minds. They had for the moment lost their heads, but not theirminds. They were howling in sympathy with George Baker, who appeared tohave good reason for all the noise he was making.

  Miss Elting sat down and laughed heartily. Then, bethinking herself ofthe fact that George had been reading the paper at the time of hisoutburst, she reached for the paper, which he had by this time tossedaside, and began reading the headlines.

  "It's there, it's there!" howled George. "I tell you it's there. We'resaved. The thing is as good as done. Oh, who would have thought it! Isaid there were no miracles that could happen up in these woods. One hascome to pass. Do you hear me? A miracle, and nothing less!"

  "What's the row about, if I might pause long enough to inquire?" askedSam Crocker.

  "Give me a piece of paper--quick!" commanded the captain. Harriet got asheet of writing paper from the tent, but not before Tommy had handed himthe newspaper. "Yes, it's writing paper I want. You've a head on yourshoulders, Harriet."

  "I thought you considered me a hopeless case," laughed Harriet.

  "I'll tell you what I think of you after I've got this off my mind. Oh,this is great!" George began scribbling on the sheet of writing paper.

  "It is," agreed Sam. "I'm taking your word for it, you see, not havingbeen let into the mystery."

  "Who is the fastest runner in the outfit?" demanded Baker, standing upand glaring about him.

  "I gueth I am," answered Tommy.

  "I don't want a girl, I want a boy. Here, Charlie Mabie, come here--onthe jump. You are the swiftest runner at hare and hounds, especially whenthere's a square meal at the other end. I want you to take this toMeadow-Brook at top speed. If you fall down, don't stop to get up, justkeep right on running. Run for your life," commanded the captainbreathlessly.

  "Wha--at shall I do with it when I get to Meadow-Brook?" questionedCharlie.

  "Send it!" exploded George.

  "By mail?"

  "No, by freight," drawled Sam.

  "By telegraph, of course."

  "What is it all about?" demanded Dill.

  "Read it. They won't understand anything until you do read it. No, giveit to me. You'll stumble over it and waste time. Listen, you people, tothe telegram that is going to produce the real thing. Listen, I tell you:'You said you would do anything on earth for me. If you mean it, wire methat you are coming here on the next train ready to serve me to the limitfor the next four weeks. It's a case of life and death!' Now, run, youIndian! Burn up the road, and WAIT for an answer even if you have tosleep on a baggage truck on the station platform. _Go!_"

  Charlie Mabie started away at a long, loping run, quickly crossing theopen space and disappearing in the forest beyond. Captain Baker sat downheavily, wiping the perspiration from his forehead with a sleeve.

  "Whew! Never got such a shock in my life. Think that will bring him?Well, I guess yes."

  "Bring whom?" asked Bill.

  "Disbrow. Must I draw a diagram of the whole thing?" retorted the captainirritably.

  "Disbrow," reflected Sam. "That's all right, but who is Disbrow?"

  "Who is Disbrow?" groaned George. "Never hear of P. Earlington Disbrow?You mean to say you never heard?"

  Sam shook his head. "I'm not a walking edition of 'Who's Who,'" hereminded.

  "We are all equally in the dark," interjected Harriet. "Why not explainto us?"

  "Yeth, thith thuthpenthe ith terrible," agreed Tommy with emphasis. "Ican't thtand much more of thith."

  George Baker made a helpless gesture.

  "P. Earlington Disbrow," he began, with slow, measured words, "is anEnglishman--an Englishman from England. Get that, Sam?"

  Sam grinned and nodded.

  "P. Earlington Disbrow is one of the greatest tennis players in theworld, champion of all England and half of the United States. _Now_ doyou get me?"

  "I do," answered Sam, nodding understandingly. "This Disbrow fellow is anEnglishman--from England--and you've sent for him to come all the wayover the ocean to----"

  "Will you be quiet? No! He already is over the ocean. He is in New York,and I've wired him to come along a-whooping."

  "Is he going to whoop for us at the tournament?" questioned Jane.

  "He may, though he isn't of the whooping kind," replied the captain in aslightly modified tone. "I have sent for him to come here to teach yougirls to play tennis. If he can't do it, no other person on earth can.Listen, and I'll read the item from the newspaper: 'P. EarlingtonDisbrow, the well-known tennis champion, arrived in New York on the"Caledonian" yesterday. When interviewed as to the purpose of his visitto America, he denied that he had come here for the purpose of arrangingany matches. Mr. Disbrow announces his intention of visiting old friends,but wishes to witness the mid-season tournaments, for most of which he isineligible.' That is the whole story," finished George. "Are there anyother questions you wish to ask?"

  "Yes; I'd like to ask how you happen to have such a pull with thisfellow?" questioned Sam. "Is it a real drag or are you doing it on yournerve?"

  "I have an idea that Captain George knew what he was doing when he sentthat telegram," spoke up Miss Elting.

  "Thank you, Miss Elting. I am pleased that some one takes me seriously.It is what Sam calls 'a real drag.' I didn't wish to say anything aboutit. Two years ago I had the good luck to be at Newport and to drag P. E.ashore unconscious. A floating spar had hit him on the head while he wasswimming in the surf. But I wasn't far away, so I just swam over anddragged him ashore. That's the kind of a drag it is, Samuel. P. E.naturally was grateful. This is what he said: 'George, if you ever needme, your Uncle Disbrow is at your command no matter where he may be atthe time. You send for me and I'll be there as fast as steam andlightning will take me.' Not much of a drag, eh?" chuckled George.

  "I didn't think it was so strong as that," muttered Sam.

  "And he may come here to coach us?" wondered Harriet. "Wouldn't that beperfectly splendid?"

  "You don't know whether he will or not," answered Dill. "P. E. may pay noattention to George's telegram, then you will be up against it just ashard as before."

  "He may not get the message, of course," agreed George. "But if it doesreach him, you mark what I say, we are sure to hear from him. P. E. is areal man. Certain persons who were opposed to him in matches didn't knowthis fact till they faced him across the nets; then they found out inshort order. Oh, he is the right sort and you'll like him after you getto know him as well as I do. Curious none of you folks over heard ofhim."

  "I have," answered the guardian.

  "And so have I," added Harriet. "I have read of his matches, both on thisand the other side of the Atlantic. What a glorious thing to think thathe may be here to instruct us! He could show us how to win a match. Bythe way, Captain Baker, how many will there be in our class at thetournament?"

  "They are all in your class--that is, eligible for the same events. Ofcourse, you girls will play in doubles. For instance, you and Jane willplay together on a side with two other girls opposed to you, while Hazeland Grace are playing together on another court against another pair ofgirls. If either of you win a certain number of sets, whatever may beagreed upon by the committee, then the winners play each other. Doesn'tsound so very formidable, does it?" he smiled.

  "Enough so," answered Harriet Burrell thoughtfully.

  "We might as well go on with our practice. Can't afford to waste anytime, you know," reminded George. They took up their work with newcourage, and all during that afternoon the girls worked steadily and tobetter purpose than at any time before.

  Th
ey had just stopped playing for the day when Charlie Mabie cametrotting into camp. He was waving a yellow sheet over his head. He hadbeen fortunate enough to get a ride in an automobile both going andcoming and so had returned early.

  "He's got it!" yelled George. The captain sprang forward and snatched thetelegram from the hands of his messenger. "Whoop! I told you so. Listento this, ladies of the Meadow-Brook organization and gentlemen of theTramp Club, listen to what the champion of England says in reply toGeorge Baker's telegram: 'Coming, you bet! Meet me seven-thirty to-morrowmorning. (Signed) Earlington Disbrow.'"

  "Am I the original provider?" demanded the captain triumphantly.

  The boys of the Tramp Club tossed their hats in the air, uttering aseries of wild whoops, to which was added the yell of the Meadow-BrookGirls.

  The entire party was wild with delight over the good news and CaptainBaker was more a hero than ever before. While Harriet and Hazel weregetting the supper, to which the boys had been invited, the others passedthe time in song and general congratulation. It was a merry camp.

  George and one of his companions were to go to Meadow-Brook early in themorning to meet the champion tennis player at half-past seven o'clock.Jane suggested that she, too, go in and bring the visitor back in hercar. This Miss Elting did not approve. George said it would beunnecessary, that he could get some one to drive out with them. It was,therefore, arranged that way, and the boys left their friends shortlybefore ten o'clock that evening, filled with anticipation for the morrow.

  A start was made next morning before daylight, George and Charlie settingout on foot for the village, more than ten miles away. However, they didnot in the least mind the long walk. They were too well used to trampingover the country.

  The girls fairly counted the hours next morning. They calculated thatGeorge and his friend should reach the camp in the woods no later thanhalf-past nine o'clock. The camp had been put in perfect order for theguest, and the Tramp Boys in their own camp had set aside a small tentfor Disbrow, making the interior of the tent as comfortable as possible.If he thought best after reaching the camp to transfer operations to thevillage, this could be very easily accomplished. They did not know howwell pleased he might be with the discomforts of life in camp there inthe woods.

  Half-past nine passed, then ten. At noon there was still no sign ofGeorge and his friend. The girls sat down to their noon meal, which theyhad hoped to share with Disbrow. The boys refused to eat with them. Theformer were becoming gloomy. They felt that something must have occurredto detain the party at Meadow-Brook, but what that something might bethey were unable to imagine.

  "There comes some one," shouted Sam suddenly, while the girls were stillat their meal.

  Everybody sprang up. Just emerging from the log road that led into theircamp clearing they saw Captain George Baker. The captain had lost hisformer springiness of step, his alert manner. He was dragging himselfalong as though worn out with fatigue. Charlie Mabie was not with him.Neither was the expected guest, P. Earlington Disbrow, the tennischampion of all England and part of the United States.

  The boys ran forward to meet George, the girls following more slowly.Harriet knew from George Baker's attitude that something was wrong. Hisdejection was apparent.

  "Where is he? What's the matter?" shouted Billy.

  George waved the boys aside, and stumbling into camp leaned heavilyagainst a sapling. The Tramp Boys and the Meadow-Brook Girls gatheredabout him, gazing at Captain George with eyes heavy with anxiety.

  "It's all over," groaned George. "It's ended, like the Englishman'ssparrow, gone up the blooming spout. Don't ever speak to me of it again;don't ever mention tennis nor tournament nor Disbrow nor anything else."

  "Perhaps if you were to tell us what it is all about we might offer somesuggestions," said Miss Elting.

  "Too late, Miss Elting. I tell you it's finished. Read that!"

  He thrust a yellow sheet toward her, the girls recognizing it to be atelegraphic message. The guardian read it hurriedly, then she, too, satdown heavily.