"Think I'm the best candidate for crew captain?" Pence asked almost in a whisper. "Really mean it?"
"I'd take it myself in a minute if I didn't think you know more about the game than I do," answered Kingdon frankly. "For the good of the crew, old boy!"
Horace Pence stared at him for several seconds. "I'm willing to try it because you say so, Kingdon," he muttered presently in a queer voice.
"'Nuff said. Now we'll do our prettiest to work up a little surprise for our Blackport friends."
Following Kingdon's advice, they declined to show off in the shell when the Nothing To It was loafing about in the sound, and did most of their rowing toward evening; for at that time it was less likely that any of the Blackport crowd would be in sight.
When Yansey brought over his nine of ball players one Saturday afternoon, however, the Storm Island boys were more than ready to play them.
"Give your eyes a treat," urged Peewee to Kingdon and Pence, before the game. "Those huskies they've brought from the sawmill and the shipyard ought to be in the big league. Methinks they've played as far south as Providence. Look at that feller warming up over there. He ought to be pitching for McGraw."
"Get a foot warmer," chuckled Rex. "Don't let the size of 'em scare you, my child. We will protect you."
"How kind of you!" murmured Hicks. "I hope Middy bounces a fast one off his dome, just the same. He acts like he owned the earth and was just whitewashing the fence around it."
"Let's take care he doesn't whitewash us," said Kingdon.