Subject: The greatest product seen on shark tank

From: "Margret Muse" <[email-masked]>
Date: Sat, 2 Dec 2017 13:49:46 -0500

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Walter frequently surpassed him in single shots or astonishing rallies. That the set had been a hotly contested one was shown by the score in games being 9 to 8 in favor of Miller. If he could make the next game, the set would be his, and with it the championship of the troop. He was counting on the fact that Walter was apt to go to pieces at a critical moment; this helped to keep the playing fairly even. Perched on a barrel, overlooking the court, George Rawson, the Assistant Scout Master, was scoring; while several other scouts had various points of vantage and were watching the game with eager interest. In the middle

disgust. Where are you, Ralph Wheres a light, a match Here I am Ralph answered, scrambling to his feet. What on earth has Art been doing all this time Didnt he hear the rumpus You bet I did exclaimed Arthur, coming into the room. I heard your yells, and I ran downstairs after Tom, butbut I stumbled into the parlor, thinking the fight was in there. Then I heard one of these diningroom chairs being knocked over, and I rushed in You were just a minute too late Ralph groped for a matchbox on the mantelshelf, struck a light, and applied it to the wick of the lamp. When the room was again visible, he told his friends what

The boy to whom these remarks were addressed, Blake Merton, a Hawk and one of young Osbornes staunchest friends, flushed. If you had been in Walters place, you would have lasted about two minutes he retorted. His naturally quick temperusually kept in controloften 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 upjust a little Lets play a set, Coop, you and I, suggested Blake Merton, turning his back upon Dons elated follower. Do you feel like it Sure thing, Blake But I guess you

of a rally, Don hit the ball a low, smashing stroke, intending to place it in the far corner of the court. Instead, it grazed the net and dropped dead on the serving line, before Walter could return it. Vantage out called Rawson. Walter laughed a trifle sorely as he returned the balls for his opponents next serve. He hated to lose, but he was a lad who could take defeat gracefully if he had to, and this last play only served to put him on his mettle. Dons first ball was a cut, but Walter returned it easily, and a new rally commenced. The captain of the Foxes played a net game, trusting to his height and reach to stop every