The man who had been asked to umpire with Grace was a college man, and they both had heard all that went on across the net in the final round. So when their duties were over, they went up to the defeated Malvernites and shook hands with them, and said something kind to them about their playing.
But the cracks did not congratulate the winners. Indeed, they were so disgusted with the whole affair that they refused to be lionized by Mr. Clay and the spectators in any way, but went off to the hotel in the village for luncheon,—which desertion rendered the spread on the grounds as flat as a coming-of-age dinner with the comer-of-age left out.
After luncheon, Thatcher, the other collegian, had the pleasure of defeating the younger Slade in two straight sets, to his own and Grace’s satisfaction; but Mr. Thatcher’s satisfaction was somewhat dampened when Grace polished him off in the next round, after a game which Grace made as close as he could.
Other rounds were going on in the other courts, and at five o’clock Grace and the elder Slade came together in the finals. Thatcher had gone home after wishing his conqueror luck, and Grace was left alone. He was not pleased to see that Slade’s brother was to act as one of the umpires, as he had noticed that his decisions in other games were carelessly incorrect.
But he was in no way prepared for what followed.
For the younger Slade’s umpiring in the final game was even more efficient in gaining points for the Hilltown side than was the elder’s playing.
It was a matter of principle with Grace, as with all good players, never to question an umpire’s decision, and he had been taught the good old rule to “Never kick in a winning game.” But the decisions were so outrageous that it soon came too close to being a losing game for him to allow them to continue. So, finally, after a decision of the brother’s had given Slade the second one of the two sets, Grace went to the referee and asked that some one be appointed to act in Mr. Slade’s place, as he did not seem to understand or to pay proper attention to the game.
“Mr. Slade’s decisions have been simply ridiculous,” said Grace, “and they have all been against myself. This may be due to ignorance or carelessness, but in any case I object to him as an umpire most emphatically.”
“Well, you can object to him all you please,” retorted the elder brother. “If you don’t like the way this tournament is conducted you can withdraw. You needn’t think you can come down here and attempt to run everything to suit yourself, even if you are a crack player. Do you mean to forfeit the game or not?”
“It seems to me, gentlemen,” stammered Mr. Percy Clay, excitedly, “that if Mr. Grace desires another umpire—”