A DISASTER IN CAMP
The morning following the conversation between the Meadow-Brook Girls and
Earlington Disbrow dawned clear and cool, though the weather gave promise
of being much hotter—in fact, the Weather Bureau had promised the hottest
wave of the summer thus far, which the management of the tournament
advanced as an added reason why every one should come to the seashore for
the Coast Tennis Tournament.
The girls, in no way cast down by the doubts expressed by their
instructor, were still full of determination to win or go down with
colors flying to the breeze. That was the Meadow-Brook spirit. Now that
each girl had been assigned her partner, the two teams got together and
planned out the methods to be used by each of the two teams—in fact,
planned everything that could be planned. It was the first public
appearance of any of the girls of the Meadow-Brook camp, hence their
behavior when they found themselves on the courts was still an unknown
quantity. However, instead of worrying over their ordeal the girls had a
lively round at their own net early in the morning before breakfast, then
a cold bath, after which they were ready for breakfast.
They were alone, that morning, for breakfast, and enjoyed themselves very
much. Only Tommy appeared to be nervous, but she soon forgot this in
talking about the cup that she confidently believed would be in their
possession on the following day.
They were not to play any more until after they had returned from the
singles that were to be run off on this, the first day of the tournament.
Mr. Disbrow they would not see again until they had reached the
tournament grounds, but George and at least one of his companions were
coming over to accompany Miss Elting and the girls to the tournament. The
girls were looking forward to the arrival of their own parents, all
except Harriet Burrell, who thought her father and mother would not be
present. In a way she was glad of it, though she knew she should miss
them, that she would give almost anything were they able to see her play
and enjoy the proud distinction which she hoped and believed would come
to her and her companions. But she was wise enough to keep nothing on her
mind from that time until the end of the games, save the games
themselves.
They repaired to the tennis grounds about an hour before the calling of
the games. None of the girls shared the comforts of the grand stand. They
preferred to be on the ground, where they could stroll about, where they
could be close enough to watch and learn. That they did learn a great
deal that day they admitted later on, for there were some excellent sets
played in the singles. During the morning Mr. Disbrow came to them with a
copy of the “draw” which had been made that morning, showing the
assignments of the teams for the preliminary games in the doubles. The
Meadow-Brook Girls perused the list eagerly.
“Oh, listen to this! Jane and Hazel play the Riversides first,” cried
Harriet excitedly; “and, Tommy, you and I are listed to play our first
match against the Fifth Avenues. That is what will happen if both these
teams win in their preliminary matches, which, of course, they are bound
to do. I don’t like to have to sit and wait until those preliminaries are
over, but some one must do it, I suppose. Some one always has to suffer
for another person’s gain.”
“I am well pleased that both of you do not have to meet the top-notchers
the first thing,” said Mr. Disbrow. “The meeting with a team nearer your
own class will give you a chance to get a notch or two higher than you
might otherwise attain. Miss Burrell and Miss Thompson will have an added
disadvantage. They must try to profit by your experience.”
“Mr. Dithbrow, may I thay thomething perthonal?” asked Tommy sweetly.
“Yes, certainly.”
“Then I will thay it. You are a regular calamity howler. I thaid you were
one of thothe perthonth who had to be thhown. Wait until to-morrow and
we’ll thhow you.”
The Englishman doffed his hat politely.
“I think you are right, but perhaps I have had a motive in saying those
things that you call ‘calamity howling.’ However, I shall explain what I
mean after the games to-morrow. Watch this set; it is going to be a good
one.”
“Are either of the top-notchers whom we are to meet playing in the
singles?” whispered Harriet.
“No. Like yourselves, they are lying low and conserving their energies.
The Scott Sisters I have not seen, nor the other two teams we have spoken
of. I don’t know that any of them are on the grounds, though I presume
they are.”
During the next hour there was little opportunity for conversation. The
play held the attention of the Meadow-Brook Girls, Mr. Disbrow remaining
near them, now and then calling their attention to improper plays or some
particularly fine bit of playing that he wished them to impress upon
their minds.
A very large crowd of people was in attendance; a greater attendance,
even, was looked for on the morrow. Every player had hosts of friends to
cheer for her and to shout encouraging words between the sets. The games
were run off quickly, only two sets being long-drawn out when skilful
players found themselves opposed to each other. Even these were limited
to half an hour’s playing. The playing day ended about three o’clock in
the afternoon, some contestants having made a miserable showing, others
having shown such form as gave promise of future successes.
Mr. Disbrow went to camp to take dinner with the Meadow-Brook Girls as
well as to watch their practice, which was to take place immediately upon
their return to camp. He did not compliment them on their work that
afternoon, but before leaving them that night he said:
“Remember, no work to-morrow morning. Sleep as late as you can
comfortably and do not lie awake thinking of to-morrow. Time enough to
think when you are before the net. Just try to imagine that it is a
practice game with your humble instructor on the side lines ready to
criticise you sharply for any shortcomings he may observe. Try to think,
too, that there is nothing worth while at stake, even if you do not win
out.”
“Yeth, there ith,” objected Tommy. “There ith a cup at thtake. I call
that thomething.”
“I may look in on you after breakfast to see that you are all in working
order,” continued Disbrow. “George, as the manager of the team, I would
suggest that you see Herrington at nine o’clock in the morning to see
that there are no changes in the arrangements. Miss Elting, it will be
for you and Miss Brown to look after the physical comfort of the young
ladies when they come in from the sets. You understand what to do, being
an athlete yourself.”
The guardian nodded understandingly.
“Then, good-bye until to-morrow. Remember!” He shook a warning finger at
the girls.
“We shall not forget,” answered Harriet simply.
“I feel,” said Tommy, after he had gone, “jutht ath though I were going
to jail to-morrow. Thuppothe—thuppothe a girl thhould defeat me and I
thhould throw my racquet at her and hit her on the nothe—would they thend
me to jail for that?”
“Tommy!” exclaimed Harriet, “how can you say such a thing?”
“I can thay it all right. What I want to know ith may I do it, if I want
to?”
“You most certainly may not,” answered Miss Elting sternly.
“Then I won’t,” decided the little girl.
“I should say you won’t,” returned Harriet, breaking out into a merry
peal of laughter.
The boys remained in the camp for an hour after the departure of Mr.
Disbrow, when they, too, prepared to go to their own camp. George
promised that the boys would be over early. In the meantime the dressing
tent would be pitched and made ready for them, so that the girls might go
directly to their dressing tent from their camp. There they could rest
until they were called for their turn, all of which George would attend
to personally, removing any necessity for worry about arrangements.
The boys bade their friends good night, shaking hands with each girl and
the guardian before leaving, then strode away in the darkness. The girls
retired very shortly after the departure of the boys. All were weary, nor
did they feel much like talking that evening. Miss Elting kissed each of
them good night, and within fifteen minutes every Meadow-Brook girl was
sound asleep. Healthy minds and healthy bodies had much to do with this.
Late that night, well past midnight, Harriet was awakened by the sound of
thunder. As she opened her eyes a vivid flash of lightning caused her to
close them again sharply. She got up quietly and secured the tent flap,
then crawled back under her blanket. The rain was not long in coming. A
heavy shower fell. She wondered if this would prevent the game on the
morrow, but she was too sleepy to dwell long on the thought, and dropped
into a doze a moment later.
The awakening from that doze was a sudden one. The wind was blowing and
the rain causing a great commotion in the foliage of the trees, when all
at once one side of the tent tilted up. The whole stretch of canvas was
suddenly lifted from them and hurled against a tree trunk, about which
the wet canvas wrapped itself.
In almost an instant the Meadow-Brook Girls were soaked to the skin. They
sprang up with cries of alarm. The night was very dark, except when a
flash of lightning lighted up the deserted field that only a few hours
before had been peopled with pleasure-lovers.
“Thave me!” cried little Tommy shrilly.
“What’s the matter? Oh, I’m getting wet,” groaned Margery.
“Nothing is the matter—not with us. It’s the tent that is in trouble. The
wind has blown it over, that’s all,” answered Harriet calmly.
“Keep your blankets around you. You simply must not get wet,” commanded
the guardian. “Oh, this is too bad—and on the night before the
tournament,” she added under her breath with a little groan, unheard by
her charges. For an hour they sat shivering, wet to the skin, unable to
do a thing to help themselves until the wind and rain had ceased.