"Hello, Molly!" he said to the flushed girl who stood before him. "Where are the other players?"
"They aren't coming," cried Molly Sefton breathlessly. "A wreck blocked the track. And, oh, Bunny, they want to forfeit the game, and a mean old man is going to make a speech and award the pennant to Belden, and they can't postpone it till some other day because it's the end of the season, and everybody thinks you are afraid to play for the championship—afraid, Bunny! But you aren't, are you? And there are nine of you boys here now, and—"
Bunny stopped her with a bewildered gesture. "Just a moment, Molly. Let's understand all this." And he began to ply her with questions, till the whole story was told. At its end, he nodded dubiously.
"And now you're here, at last," the girl said triumphantly, as if their presence righted the universe.
"Yes, we 're here," Bunny admitted. "An hour or so ago, we didn't think there was a chance of making it, either. You see, we were talking to a farmer who didn't own an automobile and whose horses were all out. He said that he didn't belong to any patrol, so far as he knew, but that he guessed he must be a Boy Scout at heart, because he tried to live up to all the laws of the organization. And then, all at once, he remembered something, and slapped his knee, and said, 'Boys, I haven't done my good turn to-day, and I've just thought of a way. My farm tractor needs overhauling by the agency in Belden. I'll hitch it up to a hayrack and haul you all there.' So he did."
"Wasn't that splendid!" said Molly, clapping her hands. "And just think, there are exactly nine of you boys—enough for a baseball team!"
"Nine of us, yes," agreed Bunny, "but only three of the regular Lakeville team, not counting Bi and myself, who are pitchers. Too many substitutes, Molly. Still—" He paused doubtfully.
"Play them!" urged the girl. "Beat them! I just know you can do it—you Scouts!"
Bunny considered. "I might use Bi behind the bat," he said, weakening, "and I could pitch. With Roundy and Jump and Specs and—and S. S., we would have a fairly good infield. Nap might do for center field, too." He felt this was stretching the facts a bit, but he couldn't very well say Nap was merely better than nobody. "Only—well, at the start of the season, there were just two fellows in school who didn't try for the team—Bonfire Cree and Prissy Prissler. I'd have to play them in right and left fields."
"But Bonfire can bat," Molly declared loyally. "Don't you remember that home run he knocked the first day of school?"