WHAT THE SPY LEARNED
The purchases made, Jane drove at her usual rate of speed until she
reached the tournament grounds. She slowed down just long enough to gain
the field, then put on full speed. The car went dashing over the lot,
threatening every minute to upset. She did not even turn out for a group
of workmen. They were the men who got out of the way, and just in time,
too. No amount of argument on the part of her companions could induce
Jane McCarthy to drive slowly. Of course, she would not have run over any
one recklessly, but in trying to avoid doing so she might have upset her
car and caused serious injury to her passengers.
The boys were still rolling their practice court with hand rollers,
packing down a lump or digging it off here and there, giving as much
attention to the task as if the tournament were to be played on that
particular court.
“It is a shame for the boys to work so hard,” said Miss Elting.
“Do them good,” answered George carelessly.
“We thaw the cup, Tham,” cried Tommy, leaping from the car.
“Well, seeing is believing.”
“And each of uth ith going to have it in her home. Jutht think of that!”
“Just think of it,” scoffed Sam. “Makes me dizzy to contemplate. Aren’t
you girls eating in the middle of the day any more or are you fasting for
the tournament?”
They hadn’t thought of luncheon. They had been absorbed with matters of
much greater importance.
“I don’t see anything that looks like a campfire,” said Hazel, glancing
about her.
George led the way to the rear of the tents, where he pointed proudly to
a fireplace made of stones. Near it was a pile of dry wood, some soft for
starting the fire, some hard for making a bed of hot coals.
“As you are not fasting, we shall proceed to get something to eat for
you,” declared Captain George.
“No, indeed. You have done quite enough. We will get it ourselves,”
answered Harriet, immediately setting about preparing the noonday meal,
which in this instance would be eaten some time after noon. Her
companions put on their aprons, and half an hour later Tramp Boys and
Meadow-Brook Girls sat down to a light luncheon.
George told them such other news as he had learned, the plans for the
tournament, how the names of the players who were to be opposed to each
other were to be drawn, and the like. No one knew exactly whom she was to
play against, no one would know until the drawings were made shortly
before the game was to be played. This added a spice to the contest,
though that was not the purpose of the regulation.
“You see,” continued the captain, “in case you were pitted against such
players as the Scott Sisters, or those high-toned players from New York
City, you might go down and out in the first set. Then you would be done
for, for good and all this season, without a doubt.”
“You are mistaken,” answered Harriet promptly.
“I know the laws,” answered George with some warmth.
“Yes, but it is quite plain that you do not know the Meadow-Brook Girls.
In the case you mention it would be the New York girls who would be done
for, for good and all. You are mistaken, George. But we forgive you. We
know your heart is in the right place.”
“There’s no use trying to tell you anything,” objected the captain
warmly. “You are so stubborn.”
“Isn’t that the way to be?” questioned Harriet Burrell sweetly. “Or would
you prefer to have us meek and to say, ‘Oh, yes, the New York girls will
win, of course. We stand no chance, whatever; we are going to lie right
down on the court and let them have their way’? Is that the way you would
like to have me receive your remarks and answer them?”
“No!” exploded George, “not by a jug full. I withdraw my ungentlemanly
remark and beg your pardon. You are right and I am wrong. You are always
right. Tommy says so and I agree with her.”
“You thee, I am the withe one of the outfit, Mith Elting,” spoke up Tommy
brightly.
“How many prizes are to be offered?” asked the guardian, thus putting an
end to the subject the young folks had been discussing. “I have heard
nothing about it save the little you and Mr. Herrington have mentioned.”
“In the doubles, you mean? Well, there is the championship cup——”
“Our cup,” cut in Tommy. “You know we are each to have it in our hometh.”
“There is a smaller cup, too, I believe. There is also a gold bracelet
and a few other consolation prizes, including a pair of rag dolls for the
ones at the tail end of the procession. How would you like a nice,
homemade rag doll, Grace?”
“I don’t want a rag doll, I want a thilver cup—_the_ thilver cup,”
protested Tommy indignantly. “I won’t have a rag doll!”
“Of course not,” agreed Harriet. “What a ridiculous idea! We shall have a
silver cup, shan’t we, dear?”
“_The_ thilver cup,” corrected Tommy.
“Yes. And how soon will our court be ready for us, Captain?” asked
Harriet, turning to the captain.
“Not until late this afternoon. You will want to get settled and rest and
adjust yourselves.”
“No; I shall, for one, want to get to work as soon as I shall have
properly digested my luncheon,” replied Harriet, and then, turning to
Charlie Mabie, she added, “Charlie, you are actually getting thin.”
“No wonder. I’m doing all the running for both outfits. Up at the camp in
the woods it was ‘Charlie, run to town and get so and so.’ Town was only
twelve miles away, but Charlie runs just the same. Now it will be,
‘Charlie, run over to town and get a box of candy for the girls.’”
“Not for these girls,” interjected Harriet. “These girls are not eating
candy at the present time. We are living plainly, I would have you
understand. Tommy, I want you to help me for a little while. You are
small and thin. Do you wish to assist me in working out something?”
“Yeth.”
“Then I wish you would stand up and let me see if I can hit you with the
tennis ball. I want to try an experiment.”
“I gueth not. You had better try to hit a tree if you want thomething to
hit. I don’t like thuch experimenth.”
“I’ll be the easy mark,” offered Sam. “You may hit me in the face, too,
if you want to and can. Only don’t volley for my game nose. It is still a
little tender from the wollop Grace gave it with her racquet that time.
You won’t throw your racquet at me, will you?”
“Indeed, not,” answered Harriet with a merry laugh. “I just want to
practise for accuracy.”
Sam posed as a mark for Harriet shortly after dinner, though she
permitted him to try to avoid her returns. Sam succeeded part of the
time, but not all of the time. Harriet had a little mystifying way of
sending the ball at him and reaching almost any spot on his body at which
she chose to aim. George said it was because Sam was too slow to get out
of the way. Harriet smiled but made no denial. There was no regular
practice play, however, until very late in the afternoon. Then for a time
the girls limbered up on the court while the boys were placing the net.
Then they decided to play a set. Jane and Hazel won the first two games
of the set, the other four games going to Harriet and Tommy. The second
set, by agreement, was played much faster than the first had been. The
girls really disposed of this set with a dash and spirit that they had
not displayed at any other previous practice.
“Well, I’ll be jiggered!” declared George. “I didn’t think you had it in
you to go through with it like that. That was a dandy, but not yet fast
enough to win the big cup.”
Harriet laughed at him with that teasing laugh that always made George
feel like chewing the brim of his hat to keep from making remarks.
Harriet suggested that they play a slower game this time and try to put
into practice all the tricks they had learned from Mr. Disbrow, to
rehearse everything, in fact, that they held in reserve for their
opponents when the time came to play the big games.
It was an interesting practice and one who had been looking on might have
gained some valuable information as to what sort of a game the
Meadow-Brook Girls intended to play in the tournament.
“Another thing that we need is a set of signals,” announced Harriet. “Now
we all play with our right hands, so I suggest that we agree upon a
certain set of signals to be made with the left hand as a direction to
our playing-mate as to what to do. These signals must not be overdone,
only used in case of extreme necessity. Not knowing how we shall be
paired off on the playing day, we must all learn them alike. I have
prepared a few already. We can add others as they seem to be needed.”
Harriet then explained her signals to her companions, which each one
wrote down at her dictation while the boys looked on wonderingly. Sam had
gone back to their own camp on an errand for George, so he was not a
party to the plan. After they had read over their lists, Harriet went
through the signals, requiring the others to interpret them as she made
the signs. When unable to do so they had but to refer to their papers.
This proved a very short cut to memorizing the signals.
“Of course,” continued Harriet, “we can’t be watching each other all the
time for signals, but there may come moments when an understanding
between the team-mates may be worth a great deal to each of them.”
“I don’t know whether P. E. will approve of this business or not,” said
Captain Baker in a doubtful tone.
“If he does not, of course, we shall not use them,” answered Harriet
readily. “I’ll tell you what we will do. We will play a game for him
without telling him we are going to use signals, while all the time we
will be signaling to each other. Then we will tell him and ask his
judgment on the matter.”
“Agreed,” said George. “Now, if you think you have the signals down pat
enough, suppose you play a game for me, using the signs as you find you
can. You, Jane and Hazel, are not supposed to know anything about these
signals for this game. Just don’t see them.”
A game was played, and several times during the progress of it Harriet or
Tommy made use of the signals. The other team-mates could not wholly
overlook these signals, hence they were in a measure on their guard for
what followed each time, but the value of signals was so apparent that
George declared himself fully convinced. He said there could be no doubt
as to how P. E. would view them.
“How did you ever think of it, Harriet?” he questioned, gazing at her
admiringly.
“I just dreamed them out at home the other night, but I had forgotten all
about it until to-day.”
“Well, all I’ve got to say about it is that you are a mighty good
dreamer. Now, we haven’t much time left before dark, so go ahead and
play. Use your signals, use everything. Work fast and do your best.
There’s no one to see you. No one comes around here. They know better
when we men are on hand to watch over you.”
Despite George’s boast, however, a young man had been gradually working
his way through the grove, approaching the tennis court from the rear of
the tents, his stealthy movements as he darted from tree to tree being
shielded from their view by the tents. As the shadows grew more dense in
the grove he kept creeping closer. There was still plenty of light for
the players, and their movements were quite plain to the spy who had
stolen upon them.
Reaching a point some little distance removed from the camp and now to
one side of it, a position that commanded a fairly unobstructed view of
the tennis court, he drew a pair of opera glasses from his pocket and
immediately became absorbed in watching the playing on the Meadow-Brook
court. Now and then he was able to hear what was said, but, fortunately,
when discussing the signals the girls and boys lowered their voices
instinctively. If the fellow had been a keen student of the game he
undoubtedly would have seen that something was being done that looked
like learning a signal code, but whether or not he understood the meaning
of the natural movements of the left arms and hands of the players cannot
be said. He had not crept close enough to make his observations before
they began to play.
While all this was going on Sam Crocker had been to the Tramp Boys’ camp
and was on his way back. All at once he halted, and, shading his eyes,
gazed at the figure. The fellow’s back was turned toward Sam. Then the
latter saw the opera glasses. He understood at once. Some one was spying
on the camp.
“Oh!” chuckled Sam, rolling up his sleeves, “here is food for reflection,
and food for my two big fists. Now, Mr. Man, look out for yourself, for
the avenger is certainly on your trail!”
The avenger was. Stooping low and moving with extreme caution, Sam
Crocker crept slowly up toward the supposed spy, getting nearer and
nearer. All at once, after straightening up, he uttered a whoop and
sprang forward, hurling himself on the man at the tree.