“What did you expect?”
“Oh, I want to see something of life. Do they have bull fights?”
“Not as they did formerly. But the Cubans are beginning to play baseball,” and there was a twinkle in the professor’s eye as he spoke.
“Humph, I can see that at home.”
“Oh, let’s go and see a game!” cried Darry. “Do you know of any here?”
For reply the professor produced a handbill which had been given him in the courtyard of the hotel. It stated that a game of ball would take place that afternoon on a certain public grounds between the Palmas of Havana and the Roosevelts of Florida.
“Say, but they are high-toned on names,” was Frank’s comment. “The President of Cuba against the President of the United States.”
“Whoop!” cried Darry, throwing his cap into the air. “Let’s go and root for Teddy!”
“Let’s!” shouted the others, and even Hockley brightened at the suggestion.
The professor was quite willing to let them go, feeling that the game would likely give Hockley something of the excitement he craved. The matter was soon arranged, and they purchased the best seats available.