"What about practicing?" asked Joe.
At this the faces of the others fell, and for a moment there was a dead silence.
"Let us practice in the morning and go directly after dinner," suggested Harry, and this was agreed upon without further question. Some of the boys had to get up very early—in order to do their regular chores—but nobody complained.
So far the practicing had been more for positions than anything else. Nearly every lad had tried his ability at pitching, catching and as shortstop and first baseman. But it was soon realized that only two or three could pitch well and that not more than that number were good in the other positions. On the other hand, several were excellent field players and could catch "running flies" with considerable credit.
"I'll decide on how the places shall be filled next week," said Joe. "It's going to be a hard matter, but I'll do my best. I hope everybody will be satisfied. Of course we haven't got to keep to our one formation throughout the whole season."
The sloop to take the boys up the lake was a comfortable craft named the Sprite. She was not new, but had recently been painted and she had a new mainsail.
The party was composed of eight boys, including Joe, Harry, Fred and Paul. They sailed away before one o'clock, and soon Lakeport was left in the distance. It was a clear, bright day and the breeze was just strong enough to make things lively.
"I'll tell you what Lakeport ought to have," remarked Fred. "A good boat club. They have one at Brookside."
"That's so!" cried Paul. "Perhaps next year we can organize such a club."
"We could have all sorts of contests," came from Link, who was of the party. "Not only among ourselves, but with the other towns and villages on the lake shore."