Grace and Donald Cartwright, Gladys and Mr. Townsend were soon out of the running. When they had finished they sank gratefully on the ground, to watch the others play.
The field was thus left to Barbara and Ralph, to Ruth and Hugh. The sets stood even, and two more games would decide.
A small crowd of visitors stood around the court. Mrs. Cartwright, having finished her own game, came over to look on. Miss Sallie was trying to be impartial, but she was really deeply interested in Ruth’s success. Mrs. Erwin, Mrs. Post, the governor, all their friends, were lined up to behold the battle.
A subdued discussion of the lost emeralds had been going on at the Casino all morning. After a thorough search of every inch of Mrs. Erwin’s house and grounds, there was still no sign of the jewels; but Governor Post and Mrs. Erwin had made every effort to have the scandal of the necklace hushed up. They had seen the Newport detectives, and had telegraphed to New York for two experts to be sent down to handle the case. In the meantime they had been advised not to talk.
Now the only upright person, who could have given them any information had, for just a little while, forgotten all about it. Whatever Barbara did she did with her whole heart. Today she played tennis.
“Ralph,” Hugh called, “remember, now, it’s two straight games to finish the way we stand!”
There was no more conversation. Even the watchers held their breath. The referee sat on the ground, rapidly calling out the score—“forty—thirty—deuce!”
“Is this game to go on forever?” Miss Sallie inquired, plaintively. “My girls will be wholly worn out.”
“Advantage in!” shouted the referee.
Ralph sprang forward for his ball; his foot slipped. Barbara, who had been expecting him to return it, was not ready.