The tennis tournament began two days after the pow-wow between the quartet on the lawn. In spite of Trevor’s wishes on the subject, he found himself drawn for the preliminary round, and opposed to a lower middle boy named Page. But he had no trouble in winning two sets running, and so qualified for the finals.
The tournament went slowly, for those were busy days at Hillton, and allowances had to be made for the demands of crew and baseball training. But Friday night left only four contestants—Trevor, Stewart, Hollis, and Montgomery. Play in the semifinal round began early Saturday morning. Trevor defeated Montgomery 3-6, 6-2, 6-2, and Stewart won from Hollis 6-3, 7-5. After a half-hour’s rest Trevor and Stewart faced each other smilingly across the net in the final round to decide the school championship.
It was a perfect morning for tennis, bright and warm, and though it gave promise of heat later, at ten o’clock a soft, fresh breeze blew across the campus from the woods. Trevor won the toss and chose the south court.
“I see my finish here,” he said with a grin.
Stewart laughed.
“I’m glad I’ve got you scared. How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
“So’m I; so look out for yourself.”
Trevor’s fears appeared to be justified by events, for Stewart took the first set from him very easily, six games to three, and won the second after a somewhat harder battle to the tune of 7-5. But after that Trevor seemingly found himself, and the third encounter was brilliant enough to win almost unceasing applause from the fairly large throng of spectators. It went to him finally by six games to four, and the fourth set begun.
The two boys played very different tennis. Trevor at his best was supremely careful and painstaking; one might have thought that tennis was a game like chess, in which each stroke was the result of deep study. He played slowly, relying upon scientific placing for his points. His serve was a justly celebrated overhand cut which against almost any boy in the school save his present opponent was very dangerous. But Trevor and Stewart had played together all the spring, and knew each other’s style from A to Z, and Stewart had from long experience learned to return Trevor’s puzzling service with a forehand stroke off the ground that was almost always successful. Trevor played well back as a rule, and was the possessor of a back-hand return that was the admiration of all.
Stewart on the court was like a whirlwind in white flannels.[240] He was all dash and go. Lithe and lightly built, he seemed capable of being everywhere at once, and that without any special effort. His playing was brilliant in the extreme; his service was a swift stroke that landed the ball almost invariably on the service-line, and that required the opponent to stand back of base-line to receive it; his return was a long, lightning-like drive that just topped the net; and his smashing was something terrific. But, like most whirlwind players, Stewart took long risks and occasionally got very wild.
The fourth set went to Trevor after a hard battle, eight games to six, and the decisive struggle commenced. It was Trevor’s serve, and for the first time during the contest he won a love game on it, Stewart returning every ball out of court. On Stewart’s service Trevor failed almost as signally, getting but one return over. Stewart tried lobbing in the next game with disastrous results, and Trevor again won. With the games 1-3 Stewart took a decided brace and secured the next on his service, and the following one partly through Trevor’s poor work and partly through fine handling of the puzzling serves. It was then Trevor’s turn to win twice running, and he brought the score to 3-4; Stewart by faultless service made it four games all; each then won on his service and the score was games all.
It had been decided that the final set should not be a vantage set, and hence the next game would settle the contest.[241] The two lads changed courts, and the audience looked for a speedy termination of the struggle. Trevor led off with a fault and followed it with a poor serve that allowed Stewart to return a slashing ball far into the right angle of side- and base-lines. Trevor was too late, and amid the applause of the crowd, and somewhat disconcerted, he repeated his previous performance; the first ball went into the net and the second bounced obligingly into Stewart’s racket and came skimming back swift and low, touching the canvas strip and dropping almost lifeless in the shadow of the net. This was also lost to Trevor, and the score was love-thirty. Trevor looked grimly determined now, and Stewart watched sharply for the next serve. He found it and returned it, and Trevor, with excellent judgment, crouched out of its way and let it go by well out of court. The next serve was one of Trevor’s best, and it found a good big hole in his adversary’s racket. The score was thirty all. Stewart found the next serve and put it into Trevor’s hands; the latter cut it to the left of the opposite court, but Stewart sent it back neatly toward the base-line. Trevor reached it by a long run, and with a magnificent back-hand stroke tried to place it over his opponent’s head. But Stewart was watchful and alert, and ran back in time, and again volleyed, sending the sphere down the right-side line. Trevor again returned, seeking a place out of reach of his nimble adversary, and Stewart, after a hard chase across court, got it on the bound and played it gently over.[242] Trevor had followed up, however, and it was all over on the next play, for although Stewart dashed back again to the territory he had just left unprotected the ball was dead when he reached it. The score was now 40-30, and the game, set, and match might be won on the next stroke.
Trevor was breathing hard, but there was a grim determination in his eyes. Stewart appeared less tuckered, but he was somewhat pale despite the easy smile that played over his boyish face. Up went Trevor’s racket; up went the ball. There was a line of white through the air; Stewart put the head of his racket to the gravel; the ball in its low rebound struck it fair and went hurtling back. Stewart ran up to within a yard of the net. Trevor waited for the bounce, glanced hurriedly over the opposite court, chose his place, and sided his racket. But his plans were wrecked by a pebble. Up went the ball on the rebound almost straight into the air. Trevor darted forward. There was no time for niceties of cutting or placing. Ball and racket came together, and the former went skimming forward, head-high, straight as a dart for Stewart’s racket!
The crowd held its breath, picturing the te............