"Three good balls gone in half an hour!" grieved Verity. "There'll soon be none left at this rate. I believe there must be a dozen at least lying on the grass over there, only that stingy old thing won't throw them back. It's really too bad."
"How could we possibly get them?" ruminated Doreen.
"Sham ill, get Dr. Broadfield to attend, and coax them out of him," suggested Fil.
Doreen shook her head.
"He's not the school doctor, unfortunately. When Millie sprained her ankle, Miss Burd sent for Dr. Harrison. We might fish for them with a butterfly net tied to the end of a drilling pole, if they're anywhere near enough."
"They're not. I peeped over the wall and they've rolled quite a long way off."
"How weak! What are we to do?"
"There's nothing for it," said Ingred slowly, "but to make a sally into the enemy's trenches and fetch them back!"
"Oh! I dare say! But who's going to do the sallying business?"
"I will, if you like."