“Tom isn’t much good.”
“Oh, I think he is.”
“Didn’t he miss two hot throws to first base in the game last Saturday?”
“That was because you put them over his head. You want to be careful, Sam, when there are two on the bags, how you throw to first. Lots of times I have to jump for your throws, and if I wasn’t pretty quick at it they’d get by me.”
“Oh, well, you won’t have any complaint to-day. I’ll get ’em there all right. But you’d better stay in the whole game yourself.”
“I’ll see. Hark, what’s that?”
The inspiring notes of a coaching horn echoed down the village street.
“Sounds like a tally-ho,” remarked Sam.
Just then there swung into view a large stage, drawn by four horses, the vehicle filled with a cheering, shouting and laughing crowd of boys.
“That’s the Resolute team,” said Darrell. “They’re coming in style all right.”