"So they are coming, you understand," she finished breathlessly. "If you will just hold the game a few minutes, till they get here—"
"Why sure!" The boy fumbled with his cap and spoke awkwardly, but there was no doubting his sincerity. "We meant to postpone the start till your team came, of course."
"But that—that man—" Molly halted until she had spied the important person and pointed him out to the Belden captain. "That man said he would tell the umpire to forfeit the game at three o'clock if our boys weren't here."
"So he could make a speech, huh?" The boy's smile revealed two rows of gleaming white teeth. "That's old Senator Cannon, who used to be in the State legislature; he'd rather make a speech, I guess, than eat. Regular talking machine, that man. But he isn't running our ball team. Why, he wanted to award the pennant last week, after we licked Elkana—so's he could make a speech, you see."
"The idea!" sniffed Miss Sefton in her most grown-up manner.
"But we fellows voted 'no' on his little scheme. Said we had Lakeville to trim for a clear title to the State championship. That's why we are so keen to play to-day, even if we start a bit late. You know, it's this afternoon or never, because school ended yesterday, and we can't very well postpone the game."
"Oh, you won't have to worry that way," Molly assured the Belden captain. "Our team is surely coming. It—it—" She faltered at sight of the messenger, on his third trip that day. Some inkling of impending disaster gripped her. Before she spoke again, she moistened her lips. "Well, what is it now?"
"Message for Horace Hibbs."
Molly reached for the paper. She had meant to ask for it, but the words would not come. All at once, she was afraid of what those scrawled words might reveal. The Belden captain watched her curiously.
But she was no coward. She would prove that much. So, calling upon every ounce of her will power to steady her fingers, she calmly unfolded the paper and read the message. There was not even the flicker of an eyebrow to suggest its import. When she had deciphered the final blur that stood for "Leland", she looked up at the boy.