“Time you did, then. And you’ll never find a softer proposition to learn on than Dutch. Come on! Get somebody’s racket from the closet under the stairs. It doesn’t make any difference whose racket you take; they’ll all kick about it. But you’d better take the best you can find!”
In the end Cal was persuaded. He secretly wanted to learn the game and not always have to sit on the end of the porch and look on. Of course his was a funny performance and when the rest of West House arrived they had a fine time watching his efforts and cheering him on to victory. At first Cal was all for giving up, but Ned told him to “buck up and not be an idiot.” “They’re only fooling,” he said. “You’ve got to learn to take a joke, Cal, or you’ll have a pretty miserable time here, old man.” So Cal thought better of it, gripped his racket until his knuckles were white and blisters began to appear inside his hands and tried his best to profit by Ned’s shouted instructions.
“Let her go, Cal! Out here, Dutch.... Forty-thirty.... Hit it, Cal! Oh, say, don’t dodge out of the way, but bat the stuffing out of it! Hit at it, anyway, Cal! All right; you’ll get on to it.... Deuce! Play!”
Even with such a severe handicap as Cal’s partnership Ned was always able to keep the game in hand, for he didn’t hesitate to invade Cal’s side of the court and take every ball that he could possibly reach. And on Ned’s service Dutch was nearly helpless. Toward the end of the set Cal began to see the humor of his wild slashes and awkward prancing and joined his laughter with that of the gallery. Once when he aimed a reckless blow at a low lob and accidentally hit it so that it sped back across the net and hit the ground just where Dutch couldn’t get it the applause from the onlookers was so tumultuous and hearty that Cal was quite proud and made up his mind then and there that he would learn tennis if he had to die for it.
“Our set,” announced Ned. “Six—four. Want to try again, Dutch?”
“If you’ll give me fifteen,” said Dutch.
But Cal declined to play any more. He was very tired and quite out of breath, and, besides, he knew that if he withdrew the others would make up a set of doubles. So he took his place on the porch and watched Ned and Hoop try conclusions with Sandy and Dutch and got not a few points in that way. Before the snow came Cal had learned the game. He never made a remarkable player, but he was able to beat both Dutch and The Fungus, and Ned had only to give him a handicap of fifteen to ensure a hard-fought match.
Ned and Hoop secured the first set, six—four, and were one game to the good on the second when supper time arrived.
“We’ll finish after grub,” said Sandy, “if it’s light enough. We’ve got them on the run, Dutch.”
“Hear the blatant boaster, Hoop,” said Ned. “Bet you, Sandy, you don’t get one more game in the set. Why, we’ve just been trifling with you so far, haven’t we, Hoop?”