“I didn’t mean it that way,” he said. “Sandy’s the bang-up basket-ball player. He’s a dandy center. And Ned’s a cracker-jack, too. I guess you could make good at that if you went in for it, Cal.”
“I’d like to try. I’ve seen them play it at home.”
“It’s a lot of fun. Hello!”
They had walked over in advance of the others and now, as they turned the corner of the house, Hoop stopped still and stared. On the top step sat a girl with a brand-new tennis racket in her hands!
“Is that her?” growled Hoop in a whisper.
“Yes,” answered Cal, “and it looks as though she’d come to play tennis, Hoop.” He grinned. “Maybe you can beg off, though; tell her you’re too tired and—”
But Hoop had fled back around the corner. Cal meditated following him, but at that moment Molly turned her head and saw him.
“How do you do?” she called. “I’ve been waiting here the longest time!”