“What about the court?” inquired the young Englishman.
“As good as I could make. I’ve played on worse ones,” answered the captain.
“We shall have to look into that, too. It’s an important factor, and conditions on the practice court must be as near a duplicate of those on which the tournament is to be played as possible. Will they be grass or dirt courts?”
“Dirt, so Herrington said. This one is dirt also.”
“Well, I think when that tent is ready I will retire. How about it, Brother George?”
“It is up. The fellows are making your bed now.”
“How thoughtless in me! I shall attend to that myself,” said the guardian, rising hurriedly and going to the tent that the boys had set up some little distance from the Meadow-Brook camp. Shortly after that Mr. Disbrow retired to his tent. The boys saw him safely stowed there, then left for their own camp.
The next day was to be a day of activity, a day of hopes and disappointments which were destined to have an important bearing on the outcome of their plans.
CHAPTER XIII
IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER
The Englishman was out early the next morning. The girls found him hobbling about with a stick, he having cast his crutch aside. It was plain that he was a very resolute young man, who intended to begin his task with a will.