“How about Tucker?” asked Dick, in a low tone. “I don’t like to go away and leave him to himself for even a day. I’ve taken the liberty of asking him if he’ll join us, providing you don’t object.”
“Now, look here, old man,” said Steele, “didn’t I tell you this was to be your party? Didn’t I tell you to invite any one you wished?”
“Yes, but——”
“I meant it. It’s to be a little housewarming, you know. The gov’nor will have a party of his own down there next week. Just now he has some sort of a business deal on that is keeping him mighty busy. I have my car here, and I’ll take you and your chosen friends to pick up your dunnage. It’s forty miles to Meadwold, and it will be dark before we get there, anyhow.”
“It was mighty fine of you to plan this little outing, Steele,” said Dick.
“Well, I hope you and your friends enjoy yourselves, and I think you will.”
Meadwold was the name given to a large country estate purchased the previous year by Peyton Steele, Casper’s father. Steele was a man who loved the country and country life, and it was his intention to make this newly acquired property an ideal summer home for his occupancy. The old farm buildings had been renovated and enlarged. Broad verandas had been built. A fine stable was put up, and the place was stocked with blooded horses and choice cattle. A complete corps of servants had been installed at Meadwold, and everything was ready for the housewarming.
Blessed Jones had been invited to become one of the party, but had solemnly expressed it as his duty to remain in town and look after those ball players who needed watching. He now came up, with a sad and doleful expression on his face.
“Methinks thou wilt have a high old time, brothers,” he said. “But look here, Steele, you want to remember that these fellows are under training-table regulations. Don’t gorge them with ice cream and cake and such disastrous delicacies.”
“Leave that to me,” said Dick. “We’ll behave, Jones. Don’t be afraid. Too bad you don’t feel that you ought to come.”