“HAVE you your keys, Roy?” asked Bracebridge.
“Yes, here they are.”
Henning moved to the end of the table where the drawer was, and picked out the key which was to unlock the table drawer.
By this time all were engaged in a general discussion as to the kind of pitcher's cage which should be procured.
“I can not make up my mind,” said Roy, as he inserted the key into the lock, “whether to recommend the committee to get a wire backstop, or a canvas one.”He had now opened the drawer and was feeling mechanically for his subscription book.
“I think a canvas one will be better because it will not be so hard on the balls, and be less noisy, too. Why! where is my book—Ah! here it is.”
He drew out from the drawer the book containing the list of donors. In the back of the book Henning had made a rough sketch of what he supposed was wanted as a pitcher's cage. He showed it to the boys.
“Who's the artist?”asked Jack.
“Your humble servant,” replied Roy.
“H'm! Perspective all out. It looks two miles long. I guess the grease-paint man of last night could do better than that.”