The two Cubs followed instructions, setting the containers on a tiny, back porch behind the church kitchen. To further protect them, they covered both freezers with a piece of canvas.
“Everything’s set now for the party,” Dan remarked cheerfully. “Wonder what’s doing in the gym?”
Moving down the corridor, the two Cubs could hear the slap-slap-slap of rubber-soled shoes on the polished gymnasium floor. Brad, Mr. Hatfield and the other Cubs were there, watching the workout of the Purple Five.
Obviously, Pat and his players were trying to put on a show. They made a great commotion, passing the ball fast, executing rapid turns and pivots and taking long shots at the baskets. In a surprising number of instances, the ball found its mark.
“Say, they’re plenty good,” Dan admitted in a whisper. “Especially Pat.”
“Watch ’em guard,” Red replied, looking worried. “Rough as all get-out.”
Mr. Hatfield too, had observed the rough manner in which the boys played. As the practice session wound up, he remarked to Pat that it might be well for the Purple Five to study the rules before the first scheduled game.
“We play strictly according to the book,” he warned. “Any unnecessary roughness will go down as a foul.”
“You don’t have to worry about our team,” Pat replied boastfully. “We know the rules from Z to A.”
After ending the practice the Bay Shore boys took their time in leaving the church. They roved the corridors, peered down into the basement, and even into the Cub’s private clubroom.