CHAPTER XVI.
Thomas slammed the ball with a force which carried it far over the wire backstop.
"You must not drive them so hard, Mr.Webb; at least, not up.

Drive them down.

Try it again." Tennis looked so easy from the sidelines that Thomas believed all he had to do was to hit the ball whenever he saw it within reach; but after a few experiments he accepted the fact that every game required a certain talent, quite as distinct as that needed to sell green neckties (old stock) when the prevailing fashion was polka-dot blue.

How he loathed Thomas Webb.

How he loathed the impulse which had catapulted him into this mad whirligig! Why had not fate left him in peace; if not satisfied with his lot, at least resigned?
And now must come this confrontation, the inevitable! No poor rat in a trap could have felt more harassed.