So Tip was on hand at the drug store beside the post office, but no Fred came. Tip scowled and hung about in the neighborhood until after four o'clock. Then he went away, a black look indeed on his not handsome face.
Meanwhile, most of the people of Gridley, as elsewhere in the Christian world, were thinking of "Peace on Earth" and all that goes with it. The stores were radiant with decorations and the display of gifts. The candy stores and hot soda places were doing a rushing business.
Dick, who had been scurrying about in search of a few news paragraphs, and had found them, encountered Dave Darrin. Being something of a capitalist in these days, when "The Blade" was paying him two and a half to three dollars a week, Prescott invited his chum in to have a hot soda. While they were still in the place Laura Bentley and Belle Meade entered. The High School boys lifted their hats courteously to the girls and Dick invited them to have their soda with Dave and himself.
"We hear that baseball is going to be a matter of great enthusiasm during the next few months," said Laura, as they sipped their soda.
"Yes; and the cause of no end of heartburnings and envies," laughed Prescott. "From just after the holidays to some time in April every fellow will be busy trying to make the school team, and will feel aggrieved if he hits only the second team."
"Who's going to pitch for the school nine?" asked Belle.
"Dick Prescott," declared Dave instantly.
"I'd like to," nodded Dick, "but I've several good men against me. Darrin may take it all away from me. There are eight men down for pitching, altogether, so it isn't going to be an easy cinch for anyone."
"The nine always has more than one pitcher. Why can't you make the position of pitcher, too?" asked Belle, looking at Dave.
"Oh, I may make the job of brevet-pitcher on the second nine," Dave laughed goodhumoredly. "The only reason I put my name down for pitcher was so as to make the fight look bigger."