Seeing such an invasion of boys, the girls gave back for a few feet, though they did not quit the scene.
"Funny the Detroits didn't win the championship this year, isn't it?" Dick asked innocently.
"The Detroits haven't any show," returned Darrin half disgustedly. "They've got nearly a month to play yet, but the Detroits are no good this year."
"If all the Detroits were in a class with Pendleton, their new pitcher, this year," Dick contended, "the Detroits would show class enough."
Old Dut looked up with interest. A thoroughly skilled and capable teacher, he had always believed in encouraging sports and athletics.
"That Pendleton fellow is more than a wonder with a ball," Dick went on warmly. "I saw him pitch a game against the New Yorks this summer, and I dreamed about it for a week after."
"What's Pendleton's strong point?" followed up Dave Darrin.
"Everything in the pitching line," Dick answered.
"But what is his best point of all, Prescott?" broke in Old Dut.
Even that experienced school principal had tumbled into the trap that Dick Prescott had so ingeniously laid for him.