Along in the fourth game, however, matters began to brighten a little. Harriet and Tommy made some very good strokes. Tommy showed herself to be very quick on her feet, though there was no certainty as to where she was going to place a ball when she struck it. It was just as likely to soar off among the bushes and be lost as it was to drop in the court of her opponents. Jane developed no little power in her strokes, but her footwork was poor, yet a keen judge would have discovered good tennis material in each of the girls at the net. George, of course, was not an expert, and these little surface indications of possibilities were lost on him. He saw only faults or scores. Anything less than the latter sent his heart down into his boots, figuratively speaking.
Harriet and Tommy won the set handily, though the last game of the set was worse played than any game since they had been practising. If anything, George was more discouraged than at any previous time. Tommy, however, was delighted with her own playing. The little lisping girl considered that she and Harriet had played a wonderful game, merely because they had defeated Jane and Hazel.
They were given no time in which to discuss the game. Their instructor changed sides, placing Hazel and Harriet together, Jane and Tommy opposed to them. Harriet and Hazel won the set, the former’s fast playing, though full of faults, being responsible for her side getting the game.
“You are showing speed, at any rate,” was George’s compliment. “If I were a better coach, I might be able to push you along faster, but this is the first time I ever tried to teach any one to play tennis. I wish Disbrow were here.”
“Oh, forget Disbrow!” answered Sam. “We are going to win out in this tournament. I believe with Harriet that there isn’t another team on the coast that can defeat this one. They are only amateurs, girls. Probably many of them are beginners, too.”
“Don’t you fool yourself about that,” returned Baker. “Herrington told me they had a lot of likely entries, almost professional players, though, of course, they are not that in fact. One thing I wish to call the attention of the players to, is that Jane and Tommy played too far apart. Tommy took a position down near the net while Jane was back near the serving line. You saw how Harriet and Hazel played, both back some distance from the net. They won the game. Remember, it is easier to run forward and pick up a ball than it is to run backward. Play closer together and you will put up a much better defence and run less risk of the ball passing you. Try it this time, playing closer together.”
They did, with the result that the game was much closer than the one before, though Harriet Burrell’s side won as usual. Just why her side always won George Baker was at a loss to understand, for it was plain that Harriet played a wretched game, worse, if anything, than did her companions.
“Will you please tell me how you did it?” questioned George after Harriet’s side had won again.
“I did not do it. Tommy and I did it together,” was the naive reply. But Harriet, awkward and unscientific as she was, had used some little trick that got the better of her opponents. They did not appear to realize this, but Harriet did. She knew full well, and that trick was a phase of the game that she proposed to cultivate and work to the limit. She was very sorry that they were not to be coached by Mr. Disbrow, knowing that he could be of great assistance to her in developing this very trick. Disbrow would have understood instantly the value of it.
The play was continued with more or less discouraging results, so far as Baker was concerned, all the afternoon, with only an occasional halt for rest and such instruction as the coach was able to give them. At sundown he threw himself down on the ground, his face red and perspiring, his throat hoarse from yelling at his pupils, his body weary. It was the hardest day’s work that George Baker had ever done, but the nervous strain was the cause of his great fatigue rather than the physical effort.