“Yes, we had a pretty stiff practice and I cal’late we’re rather too tired to—”
But at this moment the others came around the corner, Hoop, arm in arm with Sandy and Spud, scowling ferociously and evincing a desire to escape. If Cal expected evidences of embarrassment on the part of the girl he was disappointed. She only smiled interestedly.
“You’ll have to introduce me, Cal,” she whispered.
Cal had never done such a thing in his life, but he managed to get through with the task in some manner, Spud, claiming the privileges of former acquaintance, helping him out.
“And this,” said Spud finally, “is Mr. Hooper, who has eagerly volunteered to teach you tennis, Miss—er—Curtis, while here in the background, modest youth that he is, hides Mr. Parker. Mr. Parker is our football guide and wishes me to offer his services to you.”
Hoop growled something under his breath that didn’t sound especially flattering to Spud, but Clara walked up and shook hands very nicely. Molly bowed and said “How do you do,” or shook hands and said “I’m very glad to meet you” at each presentation, and the boys, grinning, seated themselves on the steps and frankly looked her over. She didn’t seem very formidable with her pink cheeks and blue eyes, and it was difficult to realize that she figuratively held their welfare in the small hands that gripped her tennis racket.
“I suppose,” she said to Sandy, “that Cal has told you that I want awfully to learn to play tennis? He said he didn’t play very well but that he thought one of you would find time to show me a little about it. Do you mind my coming over here?”
Sandy proved traitor on the spot.
“Of course not,” he declared heartily. “I guess any of us will be glad to play with you. I suppose it’s a bit dull over there with just the Old—I mean with just your aunts.”