CHAPTER XXIV
A SMASHING SET
Amanda Peabody had won first serve and her choice of courts. BillieBradley was handicapped not only by her knee--which was beginning topain rather severely--but by the fact that the sun was in her eyes.
As Amanda slowly raised her racket for the serve, there was a pleasedlook on her face. She, too, had noticed Billie’s limp and her loss inspeed.
“Ready!” she called.
The ball floated over the net lazily. It looked like an easy one, butBillie knew that serve of old. The ball had a tantalizing habit ofstopping far short of that part of the court where you expected it.
Billie was ready and returned the ball neatly just over the net. Amandaraced for it, caught it with a clever, backhand stroke, and dropped itover the net. Billie swung at it viciously and sent it sailing overAmanda’s head for her first point.
“That was good, wasn’t it?” called Billie.
Amanda nodded sullenly.
“Fifteen love!” sang Billie, and set herself for the serve.
From that moment the match settled into one of the grimmest contestsever witnessed on the tennis courts of Three Towers Hall.
Each point was contested fiercely. Amanda and Billie were all over thecourts at once; they swung at the ball as though it were a personalenemy; they caressed it deftly into incredible shots that left thespectators mute and tingling with admiration.
“I don’t much care who wins,” cried Connie Danvers, dancing wildly onthe sidelines. “I don’t care! I don’t care! This is an exhibition worthwaiting a hundred years to see. Go it, Billie! Oh boy, what a backhand! Ah--Amanda’s got it.”
“Forty-thirty,” cried Amanda, with a triumphant grin.
The score in games stood five-four in favor of Amanda. Now she neededonly one point to win game and set.
It was Amanda’s serve. Cunningly, she changed her tactics at thiscritical moment, hoping to catch Billie off guard. Instead of her usuallazy, tricky serve, she sent a smashing ball over the net, carrying itfar into the back court.
Billie raced for it, forgetting her injured knee, caught the ball bylittle less than a miracle of skill, returned it, just missing the topof the net.
Amanda slipped it over neatly and Billie had to run for it again.
On the sidelines Vi wailed:
“She’ll never last it, Laura! Her poor knee! How does she do it?”
“But she does it!” shrieked Laura, her eyes on fire. “Vi, look at thatreturn! She’s got Amanda on the run now! Go it, Billie--go it!”
Billie, knowing that she must save her knee, played close to the net.Never so cool as in an emergency, she juggled the ball, sent Amandadashing all over the courts like a puppet at the end of a string.
It was such a masterly display as the girls had seldom seen. They wereon their feet, shouting, groaning, stamping with their feet.
Billie, cool, steady, saw her opportunity. Amanda, red and perspiring,danced around in the back court, expecting a smashing return.
Billie ran backward, caught the ball neatly on the tip of her racket,landed it teasingly, gently, just inside the net.
Amanda made a gallant dash for it, swung for it, and swooped up ahandful of sod on her racket.
“Forty-all,” said Billie and added generously: “Well tried, Amanda.”
That was practically the end of the match, so far as Amanda wasconcerned. At best, a temperamental, erratic player, she was hopelesswhen mastered by fury. Now she forgot all the skill and artistry ofher game, sent smashing shots to Billie that the latter returned withease.
Billie won that game, making it five-all, and took the next two onpoints.
Amanda flung down her racket and followed it from the courts withoutpausing to shake hands with her successful rival.
Those from the sidelines thronged about Billie, showering her withcompliments, dwelling on those few moments at the net when she hadshowed her complete mastery of the game.
“I never saw such marvelous form!”
“But, Billie, what makes you limp so?”
“Billie may limp, but her game doesn’t!”
The praise was sweet to Billie. She drank it in eagerly, knowing that,for that moment at least, all grudges were forgotten and she was oncemore first in the hearts of her fellow students.
Espying Edina Tooker on the fringe of the crowd, Billie broke away fromthe adulation of her schoolmates and went straight to the girl. Thatglimpse of Edina had served to remind Billie that she was at last freeto resume her investigations in the girl’s behalf, to continue theattempt to fasten the guilt for the theft of the Gift Club fund uponthe real thief and so absolve Edina.
From the courts, her friends watched Billie greet the ostracized girland a queer silence settled over them. They were remembering theirgrievance against Billie Bradley. It was as though a damp cloud settledon their spirits, obliterating their enthusiasm.
“I must say,” sniffed someone in the group, “I think Billie might beless open in her friendship with that horrid girl. I can’t think howshe can still cling to her!”
Edina met Billie with outstretched hands.
“You were wonderful!” she cried. “I had to come out. I knew I oughtn’tto, but I had to see you beat Amanda Peabody. If I could play tennislike that!”
“Maybe you will some day,” replied Billie.
Edina caught her up quickly.
“Some day! I’m not going to be here that long, Billie. I’ve got to getaway from here--and get away quick.”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about. Come away with me, Edina. Ihave something to tell you that I think will interest you greatly.”
“May we come, too?” The voice was Laura Jordon’s who, with Vi, had comeup so quietly they had not been observed.
“Of course!” cried Billie eagerly. “I wasn’t sure you’d care to hearwhat I have to say. But I think you will like it--_when_ you hear it.Come along!”
The four girls walked for some distance into the woods along thelakeshore. Then, making sure they were not observed, Billie recountedfor the benefit of her interested audience the story of her adventurousday in town and the identification of the smudged five dollar bill byDan Larkin.
“You see,” she explained, “that five dollar bill with the ink bloton it was part of my contribution to the Gift Club fund. I remembernoticing it at the time and thinking that it was a pity to have to givein such a soiled-looking bill. When I recognized it that day in town Idecided to trace it back in the hope of finding a clue to the personwho stole the rest of the Gift Club money.”
“Did you?” breathed Vi.
“Did I? Listen! I found that an old peddler by the name of Dan Larkinhad given the bill to my storekeeper and when I followed up that lead,who do you suppose I found had given the bill to Dan Larkin? A Mrs.Tatgood!”
“Tatgood!” repeated Laura. “Why, that’s the name of one of thedormitory maids, isn’t it?”
“Maria Tatgood has charge of Edina’s dormitory,” Billie pointed out.“The Mrs. Tatgood mentioned by Dan Larkin must be some relative, hermother perhaps.”
“But, Billie, if you think this Mrs. Tatgood is the thief, shouldn’t wenotify the police?”
“I thought of that the first thing,” Billie confessed. “But, afterall, we have only suspicions to go on so far. What the police want isproof.”
“Then why not get busy and produce the proof?” cried Laura.
“Exactly! We may have to call in the boys to help. In fact, I think itwould be a good idea to ask their help. We may need it.”
Vi, who had been eying Billie thoughtfully, blurted out:
“You have some definite plan in mind, Billie. I can tell by the look ofyou. Come clean now. What is it?”
“Well, I’ll tell you.”
Whereupon Billie outlined her plan. It was that she and Laura andVi, Edina too, if she liked, would enter into a plot to search MariaTatgood’s room.
“Vi and I will look through the maid’s things
--she is almost certainto have some of the money hidden about the house--while you and Edina,Laura, keep watch to see that we are not interrupted.”
“Now is a good time,” Vi suggested. “Nearly everybody is still on thecourts discussing the tournament. Whatever we do will be likely to passunnoticed.”
“All right. Come ahead!” replied Billie.
The four girls returned to the Hall, entered cautiously by the rearway, and went directly to the servants’ quarters, where they foundMaria Tatgood’s room without difficulty.
Billie tried the door and found it unlocked. Feeling like the mostdesperate of conspirators, she opened the door and slipped inside,motioning to Vi to follow her.
“We’ll have to be quick,” she whispered. “Maria may come back at anytime.”
The room contained a bed, a dresser, a washstand, two chairs and atrunk.
“You take the dresser,” Billie directed. “I’ll attend to the trunk.”
The trunk was opened, but on lifting the lid, Billie found it almostempty. A brief search served to assure her that nothing was there.
Vi had a little luck with the dresser. She unearthed fifteen dollars inbills, but at sight of them Billie shook her head in disappointment.
“No good, if we don’t find more than that,” she said.
At the moment there came a soft, insistent scratching at the door, theagreed-upon signal that trouble was brewing.
Billie slammed down the trunk lid. Vi shoved things into the dresserdrawer. Outside the room they found Laura and Edina in an agony ofimpatience.
“Some one is coming! Hurry!”
They whisked about a turn in the corridor just in time to avoid theperson whose room they had ransacked. Careful to keep themselveshidden, they watched Maria Tatgood go into her room and shut the door.
When Billie’s companions would have slipped away, anxious to get backto the dormitory, she detained them.
“Let’s watch for awhile,” she proposed. “We may see something ofinterest. You never can tell.”
Billie afterwards said that her suggestion was prompted by a “hunch.”Be that as it may, the fact remains that Maria Tatgood emerged from herroom almost immediately, wearing hat and coat as though ready for anouting. She turned down the corridor toward the servants’ entrance tothe Hall.
“Come along!” said Billie impulsively. “Let’s follow her!”