“Yes, but there aren’t so awfully many, you see. I’ve still got to find five or six more. There’s Tony George, but he has to be at the fruit stand.”
“At the what?” asked Arnold.
“Fruit stand. His father’s the Italian man who has the stand next to Chapin’s drug store. He’s a mighty good third baseman, too, Tony is, and I wish he could play.”
“Looks like this was going to be a sort of international affair,” laughed Arnold. “Americans, Spaniards, and an Italian!”
“And my second baseman’s a Portuguese, Manuel Sousa. He’s pretty good, too. How old will your fellows be?”
“They’ll average about sixteen, I guess. Dodson must be seventeen, but most of them are about my age. I hope you can find the rest of the fellows you need, Toby.”
“I guess I can. I wish they didn’t all want to be captain, though. I don’t mind not being, but they can’t all have it.”
“You’re going to be captain,” replied Arnold, decisively. “If you aren’t we won’t play you. You can tell them that, too.”
Toby sighed. “All right. I’ll stick out for it. I guess lots of the others would do it better, though. You see, Billy Conners captained our school team, and——”
Toby stopped abruptly, and the two boys turned their heads and stared startledly across the moonlit water of Nobbs’ Bay.