The girls had their handkerchiefs out ready to wave a good-bye, and Betty was applying hers furtively to one of her eyes.
“I hope your nose isn’t hurting you, Fred,” she questioned, the mischief glinting out in spite of the tears.
“Not a bit of it,” answered Fred hastily, as though the subject was not to his liking.
“And you’re sure you don’t need the ten cents?”
“Need nothing,” declared Fred, with the magnificent gesture of one to whom money was a trifle. “I’ve got plenty with me.”
Betty drew back a little, and Scat and Pat came along and grasped the four hands that were thrust out to meet theirs.
“Good luck, fellows,” said Scat. “I hope you’ll get on the baseball nine this spring and lay it all over the teams you play against.”
“We’re going to do our best,” Bobby replied.
“Good-bye, boys!” called out Pat. “I sure am sorry to have you goin’. It won’t seem like the same old place when you ain’t here no more.”
“Good-bye, Pat!” the four shouted in chorus.