Thetrouble with Billie Bradley’s knee did not improve during the days that followed. Although, assisted by her chums and Edina Tooker, she rubbed it faithfully with arnica each night, she still showed far from her old form on the tennis courts.
She was forced to suffer the constant taunts of Amanda Peabody and Eliza Dilks. Instead of making reply, she closed her lips tight and said nothing.
“Why not tell them your knee is in bad shape?” cried Laura on one occasion when Amanda’s caustic comments had aggravated her almost past bearing. “You let her stand there and say all sorts of things and never come back with a word in your own defense. I must say I’m disappointed in you, Billie.”
Billie shook her head stubbornly.
“I’ll not excuse my failures,” she said.
“Well, then, let me excuse them—or Vi or Edina here. We’ll undertake it with the greatest of pleasure.”
Billie remained adamant.
“It would be just as bad to have you makingexcuses for me. No, sir, if I have to take a beating, I’ll take it right!”
Although her chums understood Billie’s attitude and, in their own way, sympathized with it, no attempt was made to underestimate the dire effect of Billie’s temporary indisposition upon their hope of victory in the fall tennis tournament, now close at hand.
“It isn’t only Billie who may be defeated. It’s our whole crowd that’ll go down in the crash—at least, our pride will crash,” sighed Vi to Laura one day.
“I know. But there’s no use arguing with Billie when she’s in this mood,” was the response.
On the courts, Billie and Amanda Peabody had long been rivals. Amanda was a spectacular player with speed and power, but apt to prove erratic, especially when the play went against her.
Billie was steady, careful, sure, coolest in an emergency.
It was pretty to watch the two on the courts; it was always interesting; it was even apt to prove dramatic.
To Billie, tennis was a well loved sport. On the courts all personal enmity was forgotten, all private grudges temporarily wiped out.
Not so, however, with Amanda. This girl, while having developed excellent tennis form, was a bad sport both on and off the courts. She, unlike Billie,carried her private grudges with her and was only at top form when winning.
This year, however, it began to look as though Amanda Peabody would win. With Billie so far from top form, there was no one at Three Towers capable of giving Amanda “a good run for her money.”
Billie regarded her chums with troubled eyes.
“If only one of you could train in my place——”
“Don’t look at me!” cried Vi, in alarm. “You know I am a perfect dub on the courts.”
“You are getting better all the time.”
“It would take me from now to eternity to get good enough to beat Amanda. Don’t pick on me, Billie. You know very well I’m out.”
Billie looked at Laura, who giggled and raised her hand as though to ward off a blow.
“I’m good—I admit it—on the courts, as elsewhere. But not nearly good enough. Take Edina here,” she added, with a mischievous glance at the “lion cub.” “She looks like your one best bet.”
Edina grinned.
“Me! I can bust the insides out of a ball when I hit it, but my racket and the balls, they seem to be just born enemies. They never git close enough together to be friends.”
Laura chuckled.
“I’ve watched you miss more balls this week, Edina Tooker, than I thought there were in the world!”
Billie sighed and rubbed her knee reflectively.
“Well, it seems to be up to me. And I’m a total loss. I guess Amanda will walk away with all the honors this season.”
“It’s more than I can bear!” Vi stood for a moment in deep thought. Then said eagerly: “You know, Billie, I’ve a hunch about that knee. You’ve been working it too hard. I’ll bet if you had absolute rest for a week, never went near the courts, it would be a heap more profitable than all this violent exercise you’ve been putting yourself to.”
“But I need the practice,” Billie protested. “My form is terrible.”
“Your form is just as good or bad as your knee. Get that into shape, and I’m willing to bet your form will take care of itself.”
“Sounds like sense to me,” Laura abetted her. “Why not try it, Billie? I tell you what! Ted has been at me for a long time to get up a picnic on the lake. To-morrow’s Saturday. How about it, everybody? Any objections?”
“Not a one, that I can think of,” returned Billie, with a smile. “This is excellent picnic weather and we want to make the most of it.”
“Before the lake gets frozen over with ice,” chuckled Laura. “All right. I’ll tell Ted it’s a go.”
Edina shied like an unbroken colt at the mention of boys.
“We git along together like rattlesnakes and coyotes.I don’t like them and they don’t like me no—any—better. You’d better leave me out of this here picnic. I’ll spoil it all for you.”
“Nothing doing!” said Billie decidedly. “You no go, I no go either. The boys don’t bite and I’m sure you don’t, ’Dina.” With a severity, belied by the twinkle in her eye, she added: “You’ve got to learn to get along with the boys, you know. It’s an important part of your education.”
A few minutes over the telephone were sufficient to arrange with the boys for the following day’s fun. A few moments more in the kitchen provided for the hearty appetites of a healthy group of boys and girls. Clarice promised to put up a hamper of good things that would make “yo’ eyes pop clean out o’ yo’ haids.”
“Now all we have to do,” said Laura contentedly, “is to go to bed and pray for a clear day to-morrow.”
Surely, the following day might have been an answer to any one’s prayer for fine weather. It was one of those lovely early fall days when the sun warms the blood and the tang of crisp air sets it dancing.
“Oh, I do love this time of the year!” Billie’s face glowed above the woolly white sweater she was wearing for warmth’s sake. “It makes me feel equal to meeting and beating Amanda Peabody, even with one knee out of joint!”
“The way you look to-day, you could meet andbeat any one with both knees out of joint,” declared Laura loyally.
It had been decided the day before that the boys would row across from Boxton and pick up the girls at the Three Towers’ dock.
Their part of the bargain was so promptly kept that the girls had barely reached the boathouse when they descried the fleet of rowboats coming toward them across the lake.
“There come Teddy and Chet——”
“And Ferd Stowing. But who’s the fourth?”
“Paul Martinson, probably,” said Billie. “Chet said he might come along.”
Billie cast a sidelong look at Edina, and was quite satisfied with what she saw.
The girl from Oklahoma wore a white sport coat—recently added to her steadily growing wardrobe. The sport coat topped a white, fuzzy skirt and a silk jumper adorned with a flaming, scarlet tie. On Edina’s feet were white sport shoes of an approved style. Her legs were encased in immaculate, unwrinkled white silk stockings.
The improvement in Edina was more than “clothes deep,” however, a fact of which Billie was very well aware. The girl had acquired a new poise, a dignity which was very attractive. Moreover, her disposition had improved signally. She was not nearly so ready to claw and scratch as she had been a short time since. The “lion cub” was surely becoming civilized.
“You look stunning, Edina,” Billie said. “The boys will love you.”
Edina turned on her a look of panic.
“I’m plumb scared to death,” she confessed. “I’d like to go hide in a hole!”
The boats scraped against the dock and with whoops as of Comanche Indians, the boys leaped to the dock to capture the girls and the lunch baskets.
Chet Bradley came first. He was burned a deep brown by the sun and was as full of animal spirits as a gamboling puppy. He dashed up to the girls, gave Vi a paternal pat on the shoulder, pulled Laura’s ear and Billie’s hair and—stopped short at his first sight of Edina Tooker.
“Hello!” he stammered. “I don’t think I have had the pleasure——”
“Oh, Chet, this is Edina. She’s very much the rage with us, and you’ll like her, too. I’m counting on you boys to give her a good time.”
“Righto!” replied Chet, grinning cordially. “We’re fast friends already, aren’t we, Edina? Come along, fellows,” beckoning to the other sun-tanned lads. “Step up and be presented. If you like it as well as I do, we’ll all have a very swell time!”
Edina was blushing furiously. Billie wished she were not, because it was unbecoming to her. However, the other boys seemed to like her and they were soon chatting and laughing together in a chummy and highly satisfactory manner.
The lunch baskets and the assortment of bright-colored cushions contributed by the girls to lend comfort to the trip were quickly put in place, and the girls invited to follow.
As Edina hesitated, lagging behind the others, Paul Martinson linked his arm through hers and led her toward his boat.
“You come with me,” said the young cadet, with a masterful air.
Behind Paul’s back, Billie winked mischievously at Edina.
“Without even fishing, you’ve made a good catch,” she whispered mischievously. “Hang on to it!”
Whether this pleasantry confused Edina, or whether the girl, hating and fearing the water, slipped as she was about to enter the boat, no one ever knew. At any rate, she lost her footing in some way, pushed the rowboat outward as she fell, and plunged headlong into the deep water at the end of the pier!
“She can’t swim a stroke!” cried Billie, and without an instant’s hesitation followed the girl into the chilly water.
Billie dived for Edina but could not locate her.
“She has been caught under the dock!” Billie came up for a breath of air and dived again. This time she, too, came up under the dock. She bumped up against something that was only a fuzzy whiteblur in the water and cried in her heart: “Thank goodness!”
A long nail had caught in the wool stuff of Edina’s skirt and held it fast.
Billie’s lungs seemed to be bursting, but she worked at the cloth so frantically that the nail came out of the rotted wood.
As she felt herself begin to sink again, Edina twisted in the water and wrapped both arms about Billie’s neck with the desperation of a drowning animal!