And when noon came around the skies still smiled, guiltless of clouds; while a delightful breeze gave promise of a grand afternoon for the great game.
CHAPTER XIII.
READY FOR THE GREAT GAME.
"What's the matter with this for a corker?"
Lil Artha, the long-legged first baseman of the Hickory Ridge nine, put this question to his mates as the big carry-all containing the team, with several substitutes, came in view of the fine field at Basking Ridge on the afternoon when the great game was to be decided.
No one tried to answer.
The reason was plain, for they were utterly overwhelmed by the magnitude of the immense crowd that had assembled to see the anticipated spirited contest between the rival teams of Boy Scouts.
In every direction were great masses of people, all decked out in their holiday attire. Girls in white and every color of the rainbow waved parasols, gay handkerchiefs, and little flags on which the name of their favorite team had been emblazoned.