This time Tommy made three passes before she succeeded in hitting the ball. She gave a gentle lift on the third stroke, serving it over the net, barely missing the net itself. Margery, following Sam Crocker’s advice, ran toward the ball making wild swings with her racquet. Luckily, ball and racquet met. Margery gave the ball a toss, but it was more the force of her forward lunge than the stroke that sent the ball over the net. The girl herself kept right on going. From sheer force of her momentum she could not stop.
In the meantime Tommy had darted forward to meet the ball and volley it back into the opposite court. Just before reaching the net she stubbed her toe on a root that had been overlooked, sprawled head first into the net, and became hopelessly entangled in its meshes.
“Thave me!” moaned Tommy.
Buster, who was still lunging forward, tripped also and plunged forward head first, her own head bumping Tommy’s with great force.
CHAPTER VII
THE MEADOW-BROOK GIRLS CHANGE THEIR MINDS
For a full minute the two camps were so convulsed with laughter that they were unable to go to the rescue of the two unfortunate tennis players, now so thoroughly wound up in the net as to be quite helpless. The more they tried to extricate themselves the more entangled did they become.
Then something else was discovered. Sam Crocker was seen groveling on the ground, both bands clapped tightly against his face.
“What’s the matter with you?” demanded Dill Dodd after the two unfortunates, bruised and sore, had been assisted out of the net.
“If you had eyes you could see without asking so many questions. She let the racquet go when she struck at the ball and it got me. The end of the handle hit me on the nose. It’s harder than iron, too. It’s broken, as sure as you’re alive. Oh, why did I ever permit myself to get into this scrape?”
“That is too bad,” replied Dill sympathetically. “Here we go and buy the best racquets to be had, then you have to break one the first thing.”