“We have a very good court at the camp,” said Miss Elting after the party had started for camp. “The boys have worked like Trojans to put it in excellent shape. It is a dirt court.”
“That is good. They are a fine lot of boys.”
“Yeth, and Tham bumped hith nothe,” Tommy informed him.
“So I hear. Poor Samuel. He is a most unfortunate mortal, but he is all to the good. That is a fine location for you. You should have some place in which to rest, however. You will have seven minutes after each third set, you know.”
“The teams are to have dressing tents near the courts if they wish,” answered Harriet Burrell. “Mr. Baker is going to put up one for us.”
“Good old George!” approved Mr. Disbrow.
At breakfast, which was a hearty meal in the case of the champion, he offered his criticisms of their playing that morning, making valuable suggestions and giving them a series of instructions regarding their playing when the real test was at hand—that of standing up before hundreds of people and yet being wholly unconscious of their presence.
The conversation was continued after breakfast, then the girls told him of their code of signals. Disbrow said he had observed them when they were playing the second set while he was watching from behind the stand. He agreed that it was an excellent idea provided they did not give too much attention to watching for signals and thus overlook the more important things.
“Harriet ith going to let uth have the thilver polithh and cloth for the cup,” interjected Tommy wholly irrelevantly to the subject under discussion.
Mr. Disbrow laughed heartily.