“I wish they wouldn’t,” said Sam. Then a twinkle danced in his eyes. “Anyway, they had you in it, too, I’ll bet.”
“Oh, yes, but I wasn’t important. He said there was a fine picture of you standing on a window-ledge with mask and mitt and leg guards! I must get that paper and see it.” And Tom chuckled.
Sam smiled a little over the idea of the mask and mitt. Then, soberly, he said: “You were the real hero of that stunt, Tom. If you hadn’t thrown that ball just right the time you did—well, you wouldn’t have had many more tries!”
“No, that’s a fact,” agreed the other gravely. “It wasn’t any time to get our signals mixed, was it, Sam?”
“No, and you—you certainly were fine, Tom. I don’t know whether I ever exactly told you how—how awfully grateful——”
“Don’t mention it!” exclaimed Tom hurriedly. Then, with a grin, “It was a pleasure, sir, I assure you,” he said gaily. “I always esteem it a great honour to pitch to Catcher Craig.”
THE END
Transcriber’s Notes:
Except for the frontispiece, illustrations have been moved to follow the text that they illustrate, so the page number of the illustration may not match the page number in Illustrations.