“I can’t see it,” replied Dan. “Besides, what difference does that make?”
“Lots,” replied Tom shortly. “Let me take a look. If we’ve got a good east wind it means a long rain.”
He thrust his head out of the open window, into the darkness and storm, while his chums awaited his verdict.
“It’s all right,” he announced after a moment. “It’s in the east. There’ll be no games to-morrow.”
“You’ve got good eyes, to see wind in the dark,” remarked Sid.
“I didn’t see it—I felt it, you amiable cow,” answered Tom.
For a time they listened to the patter of the drops that meant so much to Randall, and then the gathering broke up, the visitors going to their rooms, leaving the inseparables to themselves.
It rained all night, and was still at it when morning broke. Several times during the night Tom, or some of his chums, got up to see if the storm was still doing its duty, and when they found that it was, they returned to rest with sighs of satisfaction.
Of course there was nothing to do but call the games off. Boxer Hall and Fairview, to whom Holly telephoned early in the day, agreed to this. Exter held off, her manager saying he thought it might clear. Perhaps he realized what the delay meant to his rivals. But even he had to give in finally, and formal announcement of the postponement was made, it being stated that all tickets would be good the following Saturday.