“Just enough to keep my arm limber,” Bobby replied. “I want to be in shape for our next big game.”
“And that comes off in less than two weeks now,” rejoined Mr. Carrier. “I hear that the Belden nine is going great guns in practice and that the victory they won over Somerset the other day has given them confidence. They figure, too, that since we’ve had the championship for some years the time is just about due for them to have their turn. But we don’t agree with them, do we?” he added, with a twinkle in his eyes.
“No, sir!” agreed Bobby. “They’re not going to carry off the Monatook League pennant if we can help it.”
“It does look pretty good on the Rockledge grounds, doesn’t it?” remarked Mr. Carrier, as he cast his eyes up on the flagstaff where the beautiful banner fluttered in the breeze. “I’m depending on you boys to keep it there. Don’t forget the practice game to-morrow between the first and second nines.”
He passed on, and the boys looked after him with respect and admiration.
“He’s a dandy,” commented Sparrow.
“I’ll tell the world he is,” affirmed Mouser. “He’s more like a pal than a teacher, though he’s a mighty good teacher, at that.”
“Oh, I say, fellows,” called out Billy, slipping out from behind his tree, though still keeping a wary eye on Pee Wee, “there was a man downtown this morning putting up posters for a big circus that’s coming over to Ridgefield in a week or two. From what it said on the posters, it’s going to be a humdinger.”
“Trying to get us on a string again?” asked Sparrow suspiciously.
“No, honest I ain’t,” asseverated Billy, forgetting his grammar in his eagerness. “This is straight goods. It’s going to be in Ridgefield a week from next Friday. Gee, how I’d like to go!”