Brandishing a green mallet, Hannah grinned at John. "We'll take sides. You and me against Andrew and Theo."
Hannah went first. Theo and I watched her knock her ball through the first two wickets and aim for the third. She missed and stepped back to let Theo take his turn.
I leaned on my mallet and waited. It had taken me a while to understand the game, but once I learned the rules, I'd become a pretty good strategist. As soon as I had the opportunity, I planned to knock John's ball clear off the court, maybe all the way into the poison ivy at the bottom of the hill.
In a few minutes, I saw my chance. My ball rolled through a wicket and hit his. To keep mine steady, I put my foot on it and whacked my ball hard enough to drive John's into the poison ivy.
"It's dead," I crowed. "I got you!"
Hannah gave me one of her vexed looks. Turning to John, she said, "I swear he's getting more like his old self every day."
At the same moment, Buster went tearing into the poison ivy and emerged with the ball in his mouth. Waging his tail proudly, he ran off with it. He'd lost Mrs. Armiger's hat, but he wasn't going to give up the ball. Ignoring our commands to drop it, he dashed under the rose trellis and disappeared behind the hedge.
"Drat," Hannah said. "That stupid dog must have buried a dozen croquet balls by now."
I glanced at John, hoping he'd be a bad sport. Maybe he'd say I cheated. Maybe he'd say it wasn't fair. Maybe he'd disgrace himself by refusing to play. Instead, he slapped my back and said, "Well, it looks like you'll win this game, Andrew."
Hannah glowed with admiration. Frank Merriwell himself couldn't have been a finer gentleman.
Hannah went first. Theo and I watched her knock her ball through the first two wickets and aim for the third. She missed and stepped back to let Theo take his turn.
I leaned on my mallet and waited. It had taken me a while to understand the game, but once I learned the rules, I'd become a pretty good strategist. As soon as I had the opportunity, I planned to knock John's ball clear off the court, maybe all the way into the poison ivy at the bottom of the hill.
In a few minutes, I saw my chance. My ball rolled through a wicket and hit his. To keep mine steady, I put my foot on it and whacked my ball hard enough to drive John's into the poison ivy.
"It's dead," I crowed. "I got you!"
Hannah gave me one of her vexed looks. Turning to John, she said, "I swear he's getting more like his old self every day."
At the same moment, Buster went tearing into the poison ivy and emerged with the ball in his mouth. Waging his tail proudly, he ran off with it. He'd lost Mrs. Armiger's hat, but he wasn't going to give up the ball. Ignoring our commands to drop it, he dashed under the rose trellis and disappeared behind the hedge.
"Drat," Hannah said. "That stupid dog must have buried a dozen croquet balls by now."
I glanced at John, hoping he'd be a bad sport. Maybe he'd say I cheated. Maybe he'd say it wasn't fair. Maybe he'd disgrace himself by refusing to play. Instead, he slapped my back and said, "Well, it looks like you'll win this game, Andrew."
Hannah glowed with admiration. Frank Merriwell himself couldn't have been a finer gentleman.
( Mary Downing Hahn )
[ Time for Andrew: A Ghost Story ]
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