he said pluckily, "I'd hate to be up against you when you're in
practice!"

"Oh, no, you wouldn't, old scout!" was Don's hearty response. "Why,
I remember times when you put it all over me! I'm afraid of that
famous serve of yours still!"

"Whoop-ee!" yelled Cooper Fennimore, a scout in Don's patrol,
springing up and waving his cap around his head. "That's some
playing, I tell you! For a chap that hasn't had a racket in his
paw for three months, that's going some!"

"Talk about speed!" put in another Fox. "Gee! I'm glad I wasn't
in Walter's place!"

The boy to whom these remarks were addressed, Blake Merton, a Hawk
and one of young Osborne's staunchest friends, flushed.

"If you had been in Walter's place, you would have lasted about two
minutes!" he retorted. His naturally quick temper---usually kept
in control---often flared up and led him to say things which he
afterward regretted.

"Huh!" exclaimed the Fox, scornfully. "You seem to think Walter
Osborne can win all the time! Don did start in rusty, but he soon
warmed up---just a little!"

"Let's play a set, Coop, you and I," suggested Blake Merton, turning
his back upon Don's elated follower. "Do you feel like it?"