The Skyland post. [volume] (West Jefferson, N.C.) 193?-1988, 1940-08-29
CHAPTER K

and the Frenchman was pressing
the advantage he had gained by
winning the first set. His attack
was relentless, his recoveries
magnificent. Only Lens service
saved him from rapid annihila-
ton. That and his occasional net
play. But it was impossible for
him to concentrate long upon the
little white sphere Lefevre kept
persistently returning to him. AL
ways picture of Grace's face
smiling and radiant, or a bit
frightened and fearful - inter-
vened.
He chased back, back, after a
long lob, hit it from over his
shoulder. Lefevre at the net
''killed" the sensational return.
monsieur Lefevre leads in the
second set, two games to one"
Two games to one! That all the
margin of difference? Oh, yes,
and there was one set already to
the Frenchman's credit. But what
matter? Eventually he, Len Roll
Inns, would win or lose. He'd
much rather win, of course, but
if he lost
Would Justin still give him that
managers job in Indianapolis If
he wanted it? In New York it was
only early morning. Let's see, the
match had started at 2:30; it must
be shortly after three now. Why,
in New York it was only seven
O'Clock. Plenty of time. Plenty of
time to cable Justin-and Grace.
She still loved him. More than
she did Whyte. Of that he would
be sure, always. Perhaps if he
but it was too late. Yet was it?
Why not feign sudden illness and
no, he could not, must not, do
that. It was-well, it just wasn't
what the English called cricket.
Yet he might, during the next
change, jot down two messages
and have the boy send them. He
might. But he knew he never
would. In motion pictures, per-
haps, things were done that way,
but not in real life. Real life was
Different. Conventional, inexor-
able, cruel.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS per-
fectly timed racquet meeting a
white fuzzy ball. Lefevre dane
ing on legs that were spry and
tireless; himself long-limbed,
cool, deliberate, moving back and
forth, up and down, arm making
arcs and circles as the ball shot
off his racquet. Precipitation was
beginning to- come only now, and
vaguely he wondered at it. His
country's cause should stir him
to greater efforts, but there were
other things-other things which
crowded all else out of his mind.
He won the next two points.
Lefevre frowned.
If he had gone out to Easthamp-
ton after her at once, they'd never
have gone for that ride in
Hughes car. And if they hadn't
but what was the use of think
ing of that now! It was too late.
The sharp intake of her breath,
the shrek of fright as the small
car swerved, were in his ears;
the taste of blood was salty on
his lips. He laughed shortly; 1t
was not blood on his lips, OF
course, but perspiration. And Le-
fevre was still dancing on the
other side of the court like a sa-
tyr grinning-
Len could do nothing with the
ball. His racquet had gone dead
and heavy. He could not control
his motions. Legs and arms were
listless. Lefevre was constantly
pushing him to the base nne'
bombarding him with screening
drives. And the insufferable sing
song voice from above kept up
it's chant in French: monsieur
Lefevre's game. Monsieur Lefevre
leads one love in the third sci"
The ball came toward him and
he slashed it back at Lefevres
feet, the force Of the drive knock
ing the French player off balance.
His next service was deadly, with
more spin than any previous ser
vice in all his career. He crossed
over to the opposite side of the
baseline, poised and again served.
Vainly Lefevre strained to reach
the ball-and failed. Two success
sive aces-''Monsieur Rollins
game. Score, in games two-all IN
the third set. Monsieur LeteVre
leading in sets, two-love." |
From below where he paused
momentarily, to bite into piece
of lemon, Len raised his head to-
ward the umpire and laughed.
Shaping the racquet challenging
ly against his flannel-trousered
To- he went out on the court. So