“What luck!” cried Ruth exultantly, as she stood before the big white card on which the contestants in the tennis tournament were lined up.

“Why, whom do you play first?” asked Doris, leaning over her shoulder.

“Alice and Stanley,” she replied. “So I guess there is no doubt that Jack and I will reach the second round.”

“And how many sets do we play?” asked Doris, searching for her own name on the card.

“It’s the best out of three, except for the finals—then the best out of five.”

“Well, we won’t worry about the finals, will we, Roger?” she turned smiling toward her partner, who was standing just behind her.

“No, I think David Conner and Ethel Todd will knock us out in short order!”

“Oh, look!” interrupted Ruth. “Poor Marj has to play Miss Phillips and Mr. Remington first! Tough luck!” “What’s this I hear?” asked Marjorie, just coming into the hall.

Ruth repeated her announcement, and Marjorie contemplated the schedule mournfully. She feared that she would be put out in the first round, unless her partner, Griffith Hunter, were a perfect genius at the game.

“But you can’t expect to win everything,” said Ruth. “You’re pretty sure of the canoe meet——”

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of the gong, summoning them to breakfast. They all turned to answer its welcome call immediately.

“I suppose you’ve all read the schedule,” said Mr. Andrews, when they were seated around the table. “Mrs. Andrews pulled the names out at random, so there can be no dissatisfaction.

“Now would you consider it too strenuous a program to play off the first match this morning, and then report at luncheon? I think it would be interesting to have the winning girl announce the victory in each case.”

“And then if we beat, do we have to play the next match after luncheon?” asked Ruth.

“That is to be just as you wish,” replied the host. “Or you may leave it till Friday morning.”

The meal was eaten amid a confusion of questions and answers, everyone asking everyone else whom they played first, and instantly forgetting the answer. “I wish we could begin right after breakfast,” said Ruth. “I hate to waste time digesting a meal!”

“Aren’t we lucky that it is clear?” observed Jack. “Another day of suspense would be agony.”

As soon as breakfast was concluded all the young people, except Ruth and Jack, established themselves on the porch. But this energetic couple were so restless that, in order to pass the time more quickly, Jack suggested a walk to the garage to see how the repairs on Harold’s car were progressing.

“Do you think we stand a chance of winning?” asked Ruth as they made their way along the winding drive. “I don’t mean the first round—but the finals!”

“I don’t know,” replied her companion. “I’ve never seen lots of those people play.”

“It hardly seems fair for Mr. Remington and Miss Phillips to go in it, does it? Still, so long as they did, it is good luck to have Marj and Mr. Hunter up against them the first thing. I guess they’ll feel pretty sick after their first match is over.”

“Marj is pretty good, though,” said Jack; “if I do say it myself. She’s been playing with me and some of the fellows ever since school stopped, and I’ve got to hand it to her. Her serve is out of sight!”

“Indeed!” said Ruth, stiffly. “She certainly must have improved, for I never had any difficulty beating her at school.” “Well, it all depends upon Hunter,” replied the boy. “We shall see.”

When they returned from their walk, they found the courts already crowded. Everyone, except Marjorie and Griffith and their opponents, who had secured the court belonging to the place, was playing at the club.

As Ruth had surmised, their match with Alice and Stanley was so easy that she had ample time to watch the others. They took two sets straight, losing only two games during the entire time.

Ruth noticed that most of the other sets were won just as easily. Since Frieda was a decided beginner, she and Bob lost heavily to Max Stanton and Jeanne Trowbridge; and Lily and Dick were defeated in the same manner by John and Frances. The other two sets were more evenly contested.

Ruth’s thoughts flew to Marjorie and she wondered how that set was progressing. If she could only see it—to get some idea of how Mr. Remington and Miss Phillips played, so that she might be better prepared to oppose them when her turn came. Glancing toward Jack, who was sitting beside her on the bench, she suggested,

“Let’s go home, and get a look at Marj’s match! They’re probably being beaten to pieces.”

“You seem to enjoy the prospect!” laughed Jack.

“Well, it’s only that your sister wins everything she can lay her hands on, and it is a satisfaction to see her take a back seat once in a while.”

But when they reached the grounds, they saw the tennis players, hot and tired, walking toward the house.

“Who won?” called Jack.

“And what was the score?” put in Ruth.

“You’ll find out at luncheon,” returned Miss Phillips, teasingly. “Wait and see.”

Ruth suppressed an expression of anger, and made no reply. It seemed to her that Miss Phillips always chose to make herself as irritating as possible. She resolved, however, to say nothing further to Marjorie. But when lunch time came, she was almost consumed with curiosity.

“Let us have the announcements,” said Mr. Andrews, when everyone was served. “Please report in the order your names appear on the tournament card.”

“6–0, 6–2,” announced Ruth, triumphantly, secretly delighted that her name led the list.

Frances Wright and Ethel Todd each reported somewhat similar victories; and then the two Trowbridge girls, who had been invited for luncheon, reported their successes. While everyone was looking for Miss Phillips to report her score, to their great consternation, Marjorie Wilkinson stood up.

“3–6; 8–6; 6–3,” she said smilingly. “How did you ever do it!” cried Ruth, dropping her bread and butter.

“Mr. Hunter and Miss Wilkinson are some players!” said Mr. Remington. “Not because they beat us,” he added hastily, in confusion.

“Congratulations to everybody!” said Mrs. Andrews. “I think you all did well.”

“And are any of you anxious to play this afternoon?” asked their host.

“Not I!” sighed Marjorie. “I’m all in.”

“I’d like to,” said Ruth; “at least if it suits Frances and John.”

“Perfectly,” replied the girl.

The third group followed their example, so that two lively matches were scheduled for three o’clock.

“Are you sure you’re not tired?” asked Jack, as he and Ruth went to the club together.

“I never felt better in my life.”

“By the way, Hadley doesn’t look as if he had much pep, does he? I wonder what’s the matter?”

“Oh, he’s heart broken because Marj chose to go swimming instead of coming to cheer him on. She is a hard-hearted creature!”

“Marj doesn’t think a whole lot about boys,” replied Jack. “It’s tennis, and canoeing, and scouts with her, all the time!”

Ruth was right about John Hadley; he went on the court without enthusiasm, almost as if he regarded the game as lost before he played it. Ruth and Jack, on the other hand, played for all they were worth. The first game was hotly contested, but when John lost it finally on a deuce score, he seemed to abandon all effort. The match resulted in an easy victory for his opponents.

“And now for the semi-finals,” said Ruth. “I wish it were tomorrow morning now.”

“I don’t!” cried Jack, emphatically. “I want a good night’s sleep.”

The number of players had now so materially decreased that everyone could keep track of the games. And everyone knew, too, that both Ruth and Marjorie were still in the tournament, although they would not be matched against each other unless they both reached the finals.

This, however, proved to be actually the case. For both Trowbridge girls, although good players at times, were uncertain and erratic, and both fell down under the severe strain. Ruth and Marjorie, and their opponents, and their partners as well, both used their heads, defeating their opponents by skill in placing the ball. Both matches were interesting and well fought, and the victories a credit to the winners. The congratulations poured in from every side.

“But think of playing five sets this afternoon!” gasped Marjorie, sinking to the ground. “I’m dead!”

“Want to forfeit?” challenged Ruth. “Never!” declared Marjorie.

“Then you can’t postpone it!”

“Oh, I don’t care. We’ll do the best we can, won’t we, Mr. Hunter?”

“Indeed, we will,” replied the young man earnestly.

Ruth would have preferred to play the match on the club courts, where everyone in Silvertown might be privileged to attend. But Marjorie’s request for the use of the private court had already been granted. Ruth secretly felt that this seeming modesty on the part of her opponent could be traced to the fact that the other girl expected to lose.

“She wants me to win my victory in private, without glory; tomorrow, when her big chance comes to win at the canoe meet, she is willing for all Silvertown to see!”

Ruth smiled grimly; there was nothing to do about it. She concluded to try to make the victory so overwhelming that the news would spread like wildfire all over the town. That would be her only hope of revenge.

The contestants were surprised, however, to see a large group of spectators gathered around the court at three o’clock when the match was scheduled to begin. It was evident that Griffith Hunter and the Trowbridge girls had talked widely of the event, for all parts of Silvertown were represented among those present. It seemed rather unfortunate to Marjorie to be obliged to play against her brother, for he not only knew most of her strokes, but he never had any difficulty in returning her serve. But on the other hand, Marjorie was just as familiar with Jack’s method of playing.

The court, though a splendid one, was half protected from the sun at that time in the afternoon. By a stroke of good luck, Ruth won the right to make her choice, and naturally selected the shady side. So much, she thought, depended upon the opening games.

Whether it was because she was tired, or dazzled by the sun, Marjorie lost the first game—her own serve. Encouraged by this triumph, Ruth put added energy into her serve, and consequently captured the next game easily. When, during the third game, Griffith sent all his serves over swiftly without getting a single return, the spectators fairly shouted in joy. It was not difficult to see which was the more popular girl.

The enthusiasm for their opponents only made Ruth and Jack play all the more swiftly. Indeed, it seemed for a while as if Marjorie and Griffith were not trying. With the exception of the latter’s serves, they won not a single game; the first set was over quickly with a score of 6–2 in Ruth’s favor.

“Want to rest a while, Marj?” suggested Ruth, in a compromising tone. “No, indeed!” replied the girl. “I’m just waking up now!”

And it seemed in the minutes that followed that she was right. Trying out a new serve—a cut—she took the first game without a point against her. Then, adopting a new system of team play, which allowed her partner to play net at all times, her side continued to score. The second set was finished even more quickly than the first with a score of 6–1, in Marjorie’s favor.

While Marjorie’s reserve strength seemed unfailing, Ruth began to realize that she had worked too hard at the beginning. She had not calculated correctly for a five-set match, and she began to be tired. Marjorie noticed this, and skillfully managed to put the balls just beyond her reach. Jack attempted several times to cross the court, and get those his partner missed, but this move proved disastrous in each case, for Griffith returned the ball to an empty court. As Ruth had dreamed, the defeat was overwhelming, but not for Marjorie. The score of the third set was 6–1, and of the final set 6–0.

“I guess you’re sorry now you didn’t play at the club,” whispered Ruth, as the players made their way toward the spectators.

But Marjorie made no reply.