“Too hot,” said Sam.
Jane pulled young Smart by the sleeve. “Tell him you will give him a jersey,” she said in a low voice. “His shirt is torn.”
Again young Smart looked at Jane with scrutinising eyes. “You're a wonder,” he said.
“Come along, Sam. You haven't got your sweater with you, but I will get one for you. Get into the bush there and change.”
With apparent reluctance, but with a gleam in his little red eyes, Sam slouched into the woods to make the change, and in a few moments came forth and ran to take his position at left field.
The baseball match turned out to be a mere setting for the display of the eccentricities and superior baseball qualities of Sam, which apparently quite outclassed those of his teammates in the match. After three disastrous innings, Sam caused himself to be moved first to the position of short stop, and later to the pitcher's box, to the immense advantage of his side. But although, owing to the lead obtained by the enemy, his prowess was unable to ward off defeat from All Comers, yet under his inspiration and skilful generalship, the team made such a brilliant recovery of form and came so near victory that Sam was carried from the field in triumph shoulder high and departed with his new and enthusiastically grateful comrades to a celebration.
Larry, however, was much too miserable and much too unhappy for anything like a celebration. The boy was oppressed with a feeling of loneliness, and was conscious chiefly of a desire to reach his car and crawl into his bed there among the straw. Stumbling blindly along the dusty road; a cheery voice hailed him.
“Hello, Larry!” It was Jane seated beside her father in his car.
“Hello!” he answered faintly and just glanced at her as the car passed.
But soon the car pulled up. “Come on, Larry, we'll take you home,” said Jane.