The launch had not arrived, the freight agent at the steamboat wharf informed them. There followed a council and Dick returned to the telephone and sent a message to be forwarded by wire to the boat-builder.
“When he gets that I bet he’ll sit up and take notice,” growled Dick.
“He will be scared to death,” agreed Chub. “I didn’t know you could be so stern and masterful, Dickums. It becomes you, though, ’deed it does, Dickums!”
Half an hour later they were all four engaged in mighty combat on the tennis-court. Chub forgot his boredom and, with Harry at his side, played splendid tennis. But the first set went to the opponents, none the less, six games to four. They changed courts and the contest was renewed. This time Chub performed so well that the first two games went to them before the others had found themselves. Then, at two games to one, Harry, encouraged by their success, won on her serve, and they had a lead of three; and, although Dick and Roy fought doggedly and brought the score up to 3—5, Chub and Harry went out brilliantly on the next game. At that moment, as though in applause, the sun burst through the bank of clouds in the west and lighted the damp world with a soft, golden glow.
“Come on, Harry!” cried Chub. “That set made even the sun sit up! Let’s take the next one now.”
But Roy was on his mettle and made his service tell every time, which is equivalent to saying that he had things his own way. But it was no walkover at that, and when the quartet threw themselves down on the bench under the apple-tree the score was 6—4.
“If you’d serve like a gentleman,” grumbled Chub, good-naturedly, “we might have a show. But I’d like to know how any fellow can be expected to take those fool twisters of yours that never leave the ground after they ’light!”
“When Roy came here two years ago,” said Harry reminiscently, “he couldn’t play hardly at all. Could you, Roy? Why, I used to beat him all the time!”
“That’s so,” answered Roy. “Harry taught me the game.”