THE CUP THAT LURED
The girls lost no time in getting into Jane’s car, accompanied by Captain
Baker, who sat on the front seat with the driver. They drove slowly
around the edge of the field, thence out into the street, observed by
Jack Herrington with a quizzical smile on his face.
“There is as fine a set of girls as I ever saw,” he reflected. “I
shouldn’t be surprised if they were heard from at the nets one of these
days. But five weeks’ practice and entering the hottest amateur
tournament we’ve ever had on the coast!” he muttered. “I ought to ask
them to withdraw their entry, but I couldn’t do it when that Miss Burrell
looked at me with that unflinching, searching gaze of hers.” He laughed
as he saw Jane and her car enveloped in a cloud of dust. Then the
Meadow-Brook car disappeared around the corner.
“That one certainly can drive a car, even if she can’t play tennis,” he
added.
In the meantime the automobile was speeding through the town, scattering
pedestrians right and left, Jane unheeding the guardian’s urgent demands
that she drive more slowly. Jane was in a hurry to learn what it was that
Captain George Baker had in store for them. They were eager to know about
this latest surprise.
“I hope you are not getting us into more trouble, Captain,” Miss Elting
called to him.
“It spells trouble for some one,” answered the captain. “No, this is no
other game I am trying to play on you. You have game enough on hand as it
is.”
“I should say we have,” answered the guardian, her face taking on a
thoughtful expression, little lines of perplexity forming on her
forehead. “Indeed we have, and to spare.”
George directed Jane into the main business street of the town.
“Do you wish to get your supplies first?” asked the captain.
“No!” cried the girls with one accord, “we want the surprise.”
“You shall have it. Pull up before that red brick building you see on the
left there, Miss Jane. We will get out there.”
They got down hurriedly. They could not imagine what this new surprise
might be. George led them to the sidewalk, passers-by glancing
inquiringly at the brown-faced girls as well as at their distinctive blue
uniforms, which a few persons recognized as belonging to the Meadow-Brook
Girls’ organization. The captain stepped across the walk to the window of
a jewelry store, where he halted and pointed.
“There is the surprise,” he said, his eyes sparkling, his face flushed.
At first the girls’ eyes wandered over the glittering array of costly
articles displayed in the window, their glances finally coming to rest on
a centerpiece that stood out and above all the rest. That something was a
massive silver cup, standing fully eighteen inches high. The cup stood by
itself, on a black velvet mat. There was a massive silver handle on
either side. Then they saw that it was a trophy. A tennis net worked out
in silver decorated the lower part of the cup; above the net were two
crossed racquets and a ball, all in solid silver.
Still further up on the swell, cut deeply into the polished surface were
the words, “Atlantic Coast Tennis Association Trophy for Girls Under
Eighteen. Doubles. Won by ——”
__“Ohh-h-h!” breathed the girls in a delighted chorus.
“Isn’t it perfectly lov—e—ly?” gasped Buster.
“Why, it must be worth a great deal of money,” cried Hazel.
“Yes, it is very beautiful and very expensive,” agreed the guardian.
“That, Meadow-Brook Girls, is the prize for which you are to play. Isn’t
it worth going after?”
“Indeed, it is,” agreed Jane McCarthy, really overcome by the
magnificence of the trophy cup.
“Won’t that look perfectly stunning on our center tables?” exclaimed
Buster.
“Our thenter tableth!” exploded Tommy. “You aren’t in the match at all.
Jutht remember that, Buthter.”
“No, but she is one of us and will share all the glory as well as the
disappointments of the Meadow-Brook Girls,” answered Harriet reprovingly.
“Where shall we put it, girls?”
“My father will want it on hith library table, where he can look at it
until hith eyethight failth him,” answered Tommy.
“But we shall all want it in our homes,” declared Jane. “How are we going
to arrange that?”
“We might split the cup into five parts and each take a piece home,”
suggested Hazel.
“No, that won’t do. I’ll tell you how we shall arrange it, girls,”
planned Harriet enthusiastically.
“Yeth, Harriet knowth what to do,” said Tommy, nodding her tow-head
rapidly. “Thhe alwayth knowth everything.”
“First, we shall place it on exhibition in that jewelry store on Sycamore
Street at home. We shall want everybody to see it, and we shall be very
proud.”
“Yeth, and we’ll thtand inthide the thtore and lithten to what they thay
about uth, won’t we?” bubbled Tommy.
“Then, after a day or two, we shall draw lots to see who has it in her
home first. In the beginning each shall keep it for a day until it goes
the rounds of all our homes. On the next round each shall keep it for two
days and so on, every round adding a day up to a month. A month will be
long enough for any girl to have it in her home at a stretch. I’ll tell
you what we will do, we will each put in a little money that we shall
earn, and buy one of those black marble pedestals that are used to hold
statues. Then we can stand the precious cup in the window so people
passing may see it.”
“And, of course, we must write to our friends and announce the good
news,” reminded Hazel Holland.
“I know one person, at least, who will be glad to hear of our triumph,”
declared Harriet. “Grace Harlowe will be delighted to learn that we’ve
qualified as champion tennis players.”
“And so will her friends, Nora O’Malley and Anne Pierson and Jessica
Bright,” chimed in Marjory. “We never dreamed, when we met those nice
girls on our return from the mountains that we’d all become such friends,
did we?”
“I’m fond of them all, but Grace Harlowe is my ideal.” Harriet spoke with
deep conviction. She had met Grace Harlowe and her three chums during the
preceding summer. When the Meadow-Brook Girls had passed through Oakdale
on their way home. They had remained over night with the Wingates, who
were relatives of Tommy Thompson’s.
Hippy Wingate, Tommy’s cousin, had risen to the occasion and invited his
particular group of friends, known as the Eight Originals, of whom much
has been told in the “Grace Harlowe Books,” to meet the Meadow-Brook
Girls. These wide-awake young people had spent a most delightful evening
together and a firm comradeship had sprung up between the two sets of
girls. Harriet and Grace Harlowe had at once established a permanent bond
of fellowship, so it was hardly to be wondered at that the former’s first
thought was of Grace.
“Of courthe we’ll let the Oakdale girlths know what marvelouth championth
we are,” nodded Tommy. “I’ll thend Grathe a telegram mythelf the minute
the tournament’th over, thaying we’ve won the cup.”
“Can you beat it?” murmured George, chancing to catch the laughing eyes
of the guardian.
“No, George, I confess that I cannot,” answered Miss Elting.
“Maybe you might want to take the cup with you right now?” suggested the
captain.
“Could we?” asked Tommy innocently, whereat there was a laugh at her
expense.
“No, my dear. There are some little formalities to be gone through with
first,” said Harriet. “We first have to win it after battling with some
of the best girl players in the State. That done, we shall take the cup
and carry out the plans already made. I think we had better attend to our
errands now.”
“Oh, don’t go,” begged Tommy. “I could thtand here and look at it all the
retht of the day.”
They started back toward the car. At the edge of the sidewalk Tommy
turned and ran back to the window. The other girls stepped into the car
and there they sat for fully five minutes until Tommy Thompson had
impressed every line and curve of the beautiful trophy on her mind.
“You may break it if you look at it so hard,” warned George.
“Come, Tommy. Remember, you must get your rest and be ready for practice
this afternoon,” called the guardian.
The little girl turned away reluctantly, and getting into the car settled
back in the seat, uttering a deep sigh of happy satisfaction.
“I thhall want to look at it all the time. I know I’ll thit up nighth
looking at it,” she murmured.
No one answered her. Each girl was too deeply absorbed in her thoughts to
speak at that moment. Then the car moved on and the exquisite trophy for
which they were soon to enter the lists was left behind them. But Harriet
resolved that the separation should not be for long. Captain George, on
his part, took a different view of the matter.
“The disappointment will nearly kill them,” he thought.