"Thank you, Hugh, ever so much!" exclaimed the other, his fine eyes glowing with gratitude. "You've always been mighty kind to me, for a fact. Was that boy on the motorcycle one of the Belleville fellows? I thought I heard Otto Brand say so."
"Yes," replied Hugh, "his name is Oliver Kramer, thought they call him just O. K., as we dubbed our comrade K. K. for short. He hurt his hand, and is laid off for a spell, because he is the catcher of the Belleville High team, you see. O. K. is a fine chap. He ran over here to see what we were doing, and to warn us we'd have to get a hustle on if we hoped to have even a look-in, because Allandale is working like anything, while Belleville means to do her best this year."
"Belleville had better get a move on," suggested Thad, caustically, "unless she wants to share the fate of poor old Lawrence. Both teams beat Lawrence so badly last season that her club disbanded, for the fellows started to squabbling among themselves, which of course ruins any organization going."
So, chatting as they walked along, the three boys finally parted at a corner where their several ways led in different directions. Hugh glanced back over his shoulder once in the direction of the receding figure of Owen Dugdale. What was in his mind just then it might be hard to say; but at least the expression on his face would indicate that his former confidence in the Dugdale boy had not yet been extinguished.
CHAPTER XI
HUGH'S PETS IN DANGER
"Rotten luck, Hugh, to have that practice game called off this afternoon just because it rained a little. The ground wasn't drenched very much, and we could have done some work, anyhow. But it's too late now."
Thad was on the way home from school on Wednesday afternoon when he said this. He had hastened and overtaken the other a block or so away from the campus. Already the rain had stopped. Mr. Leonard, however, had sent word around that there would be no baseball practice that day; but for every one to be on hand Thursday P. M., as no excuses would be taken for absence, when every day counted so much now.
"Hold on, please, Hugh and Thad!" called some one from the rear; and looking back they discovered a lame boy called Limpy Wallace, who always carried a crutch and had to twist his body in a curious fashion when he wished to make speed.