pulled off along the coast, and don’t you lose sight of that for a minute.”

“We won’t. What next?” demanded Grace.

“In this tournament,” continued Captain Baker, “there are many classes and many valuable prizes. No money prizes, of course, for this is purely an amateur tournament, but it brings out some crack players, you may depend upon that. The best players there are in New England come down to Newtown to match their skill against their fellows. People journey many miles to attend this tournament, which usually lasts several days, sometimes a week. Most of the contests are bitterly fought. More national tennis players have graduated from that tournament than from any other in the United States. I know, because Jack Herrington, the manager of the tournament, told me so.

“It is a great honor even to be entered at Newtown,” declared George. “Believe me, not every one can get an entry there. Oh, it’s very select and one has to be well up in the lists to get an entry, but once having entered there is no backing out. The entries are closed now.”

“When is this tournament to take place?” questioned Miss Elting, interested, though she could not satisfactorily explain to herself why.

“Five weeks from now.”

“Are you boys going?”

“Are we going?” fairly shouted George. “You couldn’t keep us away with a team of elephants. I rather guess we are going, and we shall stay till the last ball is batted over the net and the prizes awarded.”

“Then you are going to play?”

He shook his head.

“Wish we might, but there are no classes for boys. Herrington promises to have a class for us next season. You will see the Tramp Club on hand with the racquets then and you’ll all come to see us cover the name of the Tramp Club with glory.”

“You have done that already,” said Harriet.

“Thank you.” The boys took off their hats and bowed gravely.

“But,” continued George, “I feel that I have scored a greater triumph this year than I ever shall by playing.”

“How so?” asked the guardian politely.

“Because I’ve entered a winning team, entered a team that all the amateurs along the coast couldn’t beat. Why? Because the team, my team, I call them, wouldn’t know it if they were beaten. They’d keep right on playing till the Atlantic itself froze over, if somebody didn’t cut in and stop them. That’s why. You watch our entry and see if they don’t set the State of New Hampshire howling like a parcel of mad Indians. Ever see a mad Indian?”

“I have seen what I thought was one,” answered Jane significantly.

“You haven’t seen the real thing nor——”

“We are still waiting for the great mystery to be solved,” reminded Miss Elting.

“I’m solving it as rapidly as possible. Nor will you see the genuine article till after the tournament at Newtown is finished.”

“We’re all agreed on that point,” interjected Charlie Mabie. “There isn’t another team in the State that can hold its own with our entries.”

“I sincerely hope you young gentlemen may not be disappointed. I should like to see your team play and——”

“See them play?” exploded Davy. “I should say you would. If you didn’t, we could never forgive you. Of course you will see them play. The idea of your having any doubts on the subject!”

“But, my dear boys, why should I be so interested, not knowing any of the contestants, not even knowing who your team may be?” expostulated the guardian.

“Not—not—not know?” shouted Dill Dodd. “That’s so, you don’t,” he added in a lower voice. “I had forgotten that you didn’t know them. But you will—you will—and when you do you’ll be just as enthusiastic as we are, maybe more so.”

“That would be impossible,” said Harriet, smiling and nodding.

The boys themselves were becoming excited. They were fairly bursting with impatience to blurt out the whole story. George Baker was not telling it nearly fast enough to suit them. Tommy and Margery shared their impatience. Tommy’s face was working nervously and Margery was making a desperate effort to be calm. They felt sure that there was more to the story, more of interest to themselves than they could even guess.

They were not wrong in their surmise. There was more to tell, as they were speedily to learn.

“Are the prizes worth while?” asked Harriet.

“A silver cup for the winning team. It’s worth more than a hundred dollars, and will have the name of the winning club engraved on it. Then there will be individual prizes. There are second and third prizes, too, but I don’t know what they are. I didn’t ask Herrington, for the reason that I wasn’t interested. I was interested in the first prize. Our team will get it, of course.”

Harriet was regarding him with narrowed eyes now, her forehead wrinkled into lines of perplexity. The way George was looking at her set the girl to wondering.

“Who is your team, George?” she asked.

“Who is my team? Don’t you know?” he almost shouted.

“Naturally not. You haven’t told us.”

“They aren’t mind readers, George,” reminded Billy Burgess. “I’ll confess that you’ve almost got me guessing. You’ve so befuddled me that I’m beginning to wonder if I know who they are myself.”

The boys burst out into a jolly laugh.

“Oh, tell them and be done with it. For goodness’ sake, quit circumnavigating the globe,” scoffed Davy. “I could walk to town and back while you are saying ‘No, thank you.’ Speak up.”

“And you haven’t guessed yet?” questioned George.

“We are more in the dark than when you began,” replied Harriet. “Who is to play on your team?”

“Why, you are, of course. The Meadow-Brook Girls are our team. You are the players who are going to win the tennis championship for the coast, and you’re going to put all the others so far back of the lines that they won’t be able to find themselves for the rest of the summer. Now, what do you think of that?”

“What?” Harriet sat up very straight, looking George Baker squarely in the eyes. “Why, Mr. Baker, none of us has ever played a game of tennis in her life.”

CHAPTER V
THE TRAMP CLUB RECEIVES A SHOCK

“Quit joking. I mean what I say,” commanded Captain Baker somewhat testily. “Of course I know you girls play tennis as well as you do everything else. Knowing this, I hadn’t the least hesitancy in entering you for the tournament. I told Jack Herrington all about you. He insisted on my making the entry right there and then. You see, he had heard of the Meadow-Brook Girls. He knew almost as much about their accomplishments as I did myself. He said that was just the kind of entries they wished for the Atlantic Coast Tennis Tournament. I was mighty glad he said that, for I really wanted you girls to go in and win the cup, so I made the entry in Miss Harriet’s name per George Baker as representative. There are girl teams entered from all along the coast and they are cracker-jacks, too, but they aren’t in the same class with you girls, either in tennis or anything else. Now, isn’t that great?” Captain George’s face was flushed and his eyes were sparkling.

“Great?” answered Harriet slowly. “I told you none of us ever had played a game of tennis in her life, and I meant it. Some of us have knocked the ball about a little with the racquets, but not one of us ever has