“And that’s the trouble,” came from Bill. “It would look too much like a family affair if we were all on the nine.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Whistle-Breeches. “If they want good players—”
“They’ll take us,” declared Cap with a laugh. “Well, even if we can’t make the Varsity, we’ll have some games. I wish the ground would dry up a bit, so we could get out and have some practice.”
Bill leaned forward and looked from the window, which gave a view of a path leading to the gymnasium. On a post not far away from the building was a bulletin board, and at that moment Forbes Graydon, captain of the Varsity nine, was tacking something up on it.
“Wonder what that is?” asked Bill idly.
“Let’s go look,” proposed Pete. “Come on, Whistle-Breeches.”
They hurried down, and after a hasty reading of the placard waved their hands to Cap and Bill, who soon joined them, together with a throng of other students.
For the notice gave announcement that all who wished to try for the baseball team were to report in the Gymnasium that afternoon, when matters pertaining to the organization of the nine would be talked over.
“Shall we go, fellows?” asked Cap.
“Go? You couldn’t keep me back if you hitched me to the Seniors’ meteorite,” declared Bill with energy.