FINGER ROCK
The fall tennis tournament began the day following. Both Tad and Rodney
had entered, Rodney at Tad’s earnest solicitation. “You see,” Tad had
explained, “I want to feel that there’s some one in the tournament I
can beat!” This was sheer bravado, however, since in the two or three
contests which the two had waged together Rodney had easily shown his
superiority, in spite of the fact that he seemed to have lost some
of his former dexterity. There were nearly a hundred entrants, and,
since it was a handicap affair, some very good matches were played the
first part of the week. Rodney met and defeated Sanderson, the First
Form president, on Tuesday, while Tad, who had drawn a bye, didn’t
meet his first antagonist until Wednesday. Then he barely scraped
through, losing one set, two games to six, pulling out of the next,
six to four, and finally winning the third, nine to seven. Owing to the
epidemic of mumps, which had ceased to be a joke, since by the middle
of the week fully twenty boys were down with the malady, the original
drawings for the tournament were sadly interfered with, and match after
match had to be postponed. Even the class football teams suffered,
the First Form team being shorn of five of its players and having to
give up practice for the time, and the Second Form team being scarcely
better off. In order to keep the disease from spreading any further the
faculty placed a ban on visiting. But in spite of that precaution new
cases cropped out day by day, and fellows were seen surreptitiously
feeling their necks and testing themselves with pickles and lemons.
Even the school team was not exempt, for Jim Peterson was missing from
practice on Thursday, and investigation showed that James was marooned
in his room in East Hall, his jaws tied up in cotton and gauze.
Westcott’s escaped the malady, although there was an anxious time when
Warren Hoyt had a sore throat, and Pete Greenough moved out of Number
2, bag and baggage, until the doctor allayed his fears. Tad declared
that for his part he’d rather like to have mumps so that he wouldn’t
have to attend recitations for a week or so, but it was noticed that
when Warren was under suspicion Tad gave him a very wide berth.
The tennis tournament dragged along to the middle of the second week.
Tad met his Waterloo on Friday when he was opposed to a Fourth Form
youth named Wallace. Wallace played at scratch, and Tad’s one-half of
fifteen couldn’t save him from a severe drubbing. Rodney lasted until
Tuesday and the semi-final round, and put up a game fight against Jack
Billings. Rodney, like Tad, had a handicap of one-half of fifteen, and
Jack played at scratch. It was the latter’s service that finally won
for him. After getting the first set, 6–4, Jack let down, and Rodney
captured the first three games before Jack recovered. Then, on his
own service, Jack secured the fourth game and the sixth. Rodney got
away with the fifth and seventh, and then broke through Jack’s service
and won the eighth, winning the set 6–2, much to the surprise of the
gallery, which included Tad and the twins, and Jack as well. The third
set see-sawed, Jack winning on his service and Rodney on his, until
the games stood seven all. Then Jack’s age and experience told and he
literally wore his opponent out. Rodney lost the next game 15–40, and
then, on his own service, gave Jack an ace by double faulting, smashed
the next return out of court and was 0–30 before he knew what had
happened. But after that he managed to draw even by two fine serves
that Jack failed to handle, and the game stayed at deuce for fully ten
minutes. When finally Jack sent a swift ball across the court that
Rodney missed by a hair’s breadth and so ended the match, there was
a good round of applause for both players. Jack reached a brown hand
across the net and said, as Rodney shook it:
[Illustration: “Finally, Jack sent a swift ball across the court”]
“Sorry, Rod. You deserved to win. You gave me the hardest tussle I ever
had, I think.”
“Thanks,” replied Rodney. “Glad you won though, Jack. Hope you keep
going, too. Only――――”
“What?” asked Jack, with a smile, as he vaulted the net, towel in hand.
“Only I’m sorry you won’t be here next year,” said Rodney. “I’d like to
try you then.”
“Try me in the spring,” laughed Jack. “I wouldn’t wonder if you could
do it then, Rod!”
Rodney was glad he had secured a cut from football practice that
afternoon, for he was pretty well worn out. However, a shower helped
matters a deal, and after they were dressed he and Jack strolled down
the hill to Doolittle’s and Jack treated to sodas. On Friday, Jack met
Hanford, the school champion. Rodney didn’t see that match, for it was
played during football practice, but most of the other Vests were on
hand to applaud and encourage their leader. In the finals the match was
three sets out of five, and Jack, who started off with a rush, played
Hanford off his feet for two sets and seemed, as Tad put it when he
related the details later to Rodney, to have the title holder “agitated
to an emulsion.” But Hanford wormed out of the third set 7–5, secured
the fourth 9–7, and then ran away with the deciding set, allowing
Jack but three games, and securing his right to the championship for
another year.
On Monday, Matty had announced that Mrs. Binner had consented to the
proposed expedition to Finger Rock, and that Miss Mapes, the piano
teacher, had obligingly transferred the Saturday morning lesson
to Friday afternoon. Consultations between the twins and Tad had
followed at intervals during the week, and at a little before nine
on Saturday morning the five set off on the picnic. The luncheon had
been thoughtfully divided into separate packages and each of the party
carried one. Kitty, for once minus his beloved turtle-neck sweater, led
the way at a business-like pace which soon drew groans of protest from
Tad.
“Look here, Kitty,” he said when they had traversed perhaps a mile of
the way, “this isn’t any cross country race, you know. We aren’t trying
to establish a new record. I love to walk, but I don’t want to overdo
it. I’ve been warned by the doctors not to overtax my strength. Let’s
pause here a minute and admire the beautiful view. Let’s pause several
minutes. I’m in no hurry. In fact I love to pause!”
Rodney and the twins seemed as willing as Tad to seat themselves on a
rock beside the road. Kitty blinked in mild surprise. “I wasn’t walking
fast, was I?” he asked solicitously.
“What do you call it?” panted Tad.
“Why――er――I call that just an amble.”
“An amble! Jumping Jehosophat! I’d like to see you when you were in a
hurry then!”
Kitty smiled leniently.
“You can see the Rock now,” said May to Rodney, and his four companions
obligingly pointed it out to him. As, however, he attempted to follow
each finger and attend to all directions at once, it was several
minutes before he actually discerned the object of their journey.
When he did it looked rather disappointing. From a distance of three
and a half miles Finger Rock was merely a point against the sky, its
base hidden by a belt of woods that intervened. Presently they went
on again, more leisurely now, Kitty looking around every little while
to make certain that the pace was not exhausting his companions. He
held forth for a quarter of a mile on the benefits of walking, and
instructed the others how to hold their bodies, how to move their legs,
and which part of the foot to walk on in order to derive the greatest
good from the exercise. Tad listened with suspiciously profound
attention, but the others soon wearied. When Kitty had concluded, Tad
undertook to walk according to instructions received and the result was
so mirth provoking that Matty had to sit down on a stump beside the
road and recover. Kitty, however, only smiled tolerantly. He was quite
accustomed to having his hobby made sport of. It didn’t hurt him any if
others played the fool.
It had been quite nippy when they had started out, but as the sun
climbed higher the chill gave way to a genial warmth and the frozen
surface of the road began to thaw, making the walking rather slippery
in places. A beech grove was a mass of gold, across a field to the
left, and further inland the edge of the forest showed all shades of
vermillion and scarlet and russet yellow and green. On the river side
of the hill a rocky pasture had grown up in young oaks, and these
supplied a tone of brown-pink, as Matty, who dabbled in paints, called
it, that quite drove that young lady to despair.
“Isn’t it wonderful, May?” she exclaimed. “Did you ever see such a
color? I――I wouldn’t know how to get it at all.”
“I’ll pick a few leaves for you,” volunteered Tad, “and you can take
them home with you.” But the leaves on nearer acquaintance quite failed
to produce the effect of the trees at a distance, and Matty discarded
them and went on with many backward glances, murmuring to herself,
totally absorbed in the problem. At their left the Hudson was in sight
much of the way, winding and twisting, at times broadening out into
small inland seas across which ridiculous ferry boats plodded. Now and
then a white sail broke the intense blue of the surface and once a
river steamer passed down, brave in white and gold. There were several
raids on wayside orchards, and Tad, who constituted himself general
sampler for the expedition, was biting into and discarding apples all
the way along. Unfortunately, by the time he had tasted an apple and
found it satisfactory the tree it had come from had been left several
hundred yards behind them. But Tad, ever hopeful, set his eyes on
the next orchard and tried again. Except that he worked up a slight
stomach ache eventually, their raids were rather unproductive. May, who
looked on trespassing as a crime, held her eyes askance when the others
wandered from the road, and only accepted the fruits of transgression
under protest. She appeared to enjoy what fell to her share, however as
well as any of them.
It was well into the middle of the forenoon when they finally tramped
over a crest of the road and saw Finger Rock rising into the air a
quarter of a mile ahead. A lane, which ran from the main road along
the back of a farmyard, wound uphill to a wooded plateau and from the
summit of the latter Finger Rock stood up for all the world like the
sore thumb of Tad’s description. It looked from that distance like one
huge lump of rusty pink granite set on end, but Kitty explained that
it was in reality a number of ledges heaped up together, and rattled
on quite knowingly about glaciers and moraines. The lower part of the
Rock was scantily clothed with scrub trees, bushes and grass, but the
upper half of it was bare of all vegetation save moss and lichen.
“How big is it on top?” asked Rodney as they turned into the lane to
the excited barking of a dog in the farmer’s yard.
“About twenty feet across,” answered Kitty. “It’s uneven though; lots
of loose rock up there.”
“We couldn’t get up, could we?”
Kitty shrugged. “You and I could; Tad, maybe; the girls couldn’t.”
“I should think not!” said Matty. “I wouldn’t try it for anything.
Would you, May?”
May replied vehemently that she certainly would not. Tad observed Kitty
indignantly.
“You say you and he could, but I couldn’t? Why couldn’t I, I’d like to
know?”
“Didn’t say you couldn’t,” replied Kitty, blinking. “Said you might.
Don’t believe you could though, Tad.”
“Why not?” challenged Tad.
“Takes strength and plenty of wind. You haven’t the lungs, Tad.”
“What’s the matter with my lungs?” inquired Tad irritably.
“Undeveloped,” responded Kitty calmly.
“Undeveloped, your grandmother!” Tad struck himself sharply on the
chest and went into a fit of coughing. “There’s no――nothing the
mat――matter with my――my lungs! And just to prove it I’ll climb that old
Rock and show you!”
“Better wait until after we’ve had lunch though,” Rodney laughed. “If
you fell off you’d miss the eats.”
“Well, I guess that would be wiser. Might as well be sure of my lunch.
Where will we eat it? Ought to have some water, too.”
“There’s a spring over there,” replied Kitty, with a nod toward the
edge of the woods a few hundred feet away. “And there’s a ledge about
fifteen feet up on the other side that we can get to easily. Good view
from there. Plenty of room, too.”
So they followed a path that led around the base of the Rock through
sweetfern and small bushes until Kitty indicated a place where by
following the lower face of the Rock up and around it was not
difficult to climb. Kitty led the way up the well worn trail, Tad
followed, and Rodney went last to give a hand now and then to the
twins. A few minutes of climbing and scrambling brought them to a
jutting ledge about ten feet broad, carpeted with grass and Christmas
ferns, and somewhat littered with the remains of former repasts. A
blackened cranny against the overhanging face of the Rock showed where
a fire had been built at some time.
“They had courage to lug wood up here for a fire,” said Tad. “Wish
they’d left some, though.”
“We haven’t anything to cook,” objected Matty.
“No matter. A fire is always good fun. We might boil water, anyway. Can
you go on up from here, Kitty?”
“Yes. Climb around that corner and then up about twenty feet. After
that you work around to the left on some crumbly rock, and then go up
where there’s a sort of fissure. That brings you pretty nearly to the
top. There’s a bit of hard climbing after that though, about ten feet
or so.”
Tad walked to the further side of the lunching place and cast a
speculative eye up the face of the cliff. Then he looked down at his
rubber soled shoes and nodded.
“Looks easy,” he said carelessly. “I’ll try it after luncheon I guess.”
“You may if you like,” said Rodney, who had followed him to the edge.
“I wouldn’t go up there for fifty dollars!”
“It isn’t so awfully hard,” said Kitty. “Got to keep your head, though.
Mustn’t slip, either. Might have a bad fall.”
Rodney looked down for some fifteen or twenty feet and shuddered. “You
might,” he agreed dryly, “even from here. If you fell further up I
guess you’d never know what struck you.”
The twins were already undoing the parcels and arranging the luncheon,
and Kitty volunteered to go for water. As, however, they had brought
along nothing larger than tin cups it was decided that they should do
without water until they wanted it, and then each one should go for his
own. “We can bring up enough for Matty and May in a cup,” said Rodney.
But Tad instantly declared that if he didn’t have a drink at once he
wouldn’t be able to eat a mouthful, and so presently set off down the
path with four cups to fill.
Kitty and Rodney helped set the viands around on paper napkins and box
covers. There were sandwiches and hard boiled eggs, doughnuts――Tad
had insisted on doughnuts――and cake, a jar of currant jelly, olives,
pickles, and bananas. They were observing the spread approvingly when
the sound of scrambling footsteps reminded them of Tad. He was toiling
up the path, two cups of water in each hand, pausing at intervals to
maintain his equilibrium, and grunting fearsomely. Now and then the
water from the cups splashed out into his shoes or on to his shirt. By
careful management he finally attained to within a few yards of the
ledge, and just as those on top were about to accord congratulations
something happened.
I think Tad stumbled over a rock. At all events he waved his arms
wildly, distributing the contents of the tin cups in a shower about
him, strove heroically to recover his balance, failed, and toppled
against the side of the path, while the cups went bounding and
clattering down the rock. Tad’s descent to a sitting posture was
gradual and extraordinarily deliberate. Clutching wildly at the air,
an expression of bewildered surprise and dismay on his face, he sank
slowly down the face of the rock, his feet slipping from under him in
spite of all his efforts to find foothold. When he finally brought up
his feet hung over the edge of the path and he was seated quite cozily
and comfortably with his back to the rock for all the world as though
he had settled there purposely to observe the view. Up above three
faces struggled against the laughter that would not be denied. Only
Kitty remained grave. He blinked with mild surprise. It was Tad who
relieved the situation. Finding his progress down the rock at an end,
he looked about him and then at his bespattered clothes. Finally, with
a grin, he raised his gaze to the quivering faces above him.
“‘Water, water everywhere,’” he quoted pathetically, “‘and not a drop
to drink!’”
Whereupon Rodney and the twins laughed until the tears came, and
Kitty, after consideration, smiled as if in duty bound. Then he went
down and helped Tad to his feet, rescued the tin cups, and set off
himself for the water. Five minutes later, sitting up there in the
sunshine with a mild autumn breeze fluttering the paper napkins about,
they lunched hungrily, enjoyably, laughing and chattering and voting
the picnic a huge success.