"Horace," she began breathlessly, "Kirby will have to pitch and there's no one to take his place on first! We'll be beaten as sure as anything if Roy doesn't play. You've got to tell the truth to Dad, Horace!"
Horace flushed a little but only laughed carelessly.
"You've just got to, Horace!" she cried. "If you don't tell I will. I don't care if I did promise Roy!"
"Say, Harry, what's the matter with you?" Horace asked. "What are you going to tell?"
"About this!" She held up the crimson sweater before him. "You know what I mean, Horace, and there's no use in pretending you don't. You've got to go to Dad this minute and tell him!"
Horace's eyes fell and the blood rushed to his cheeks. He turned away.
"I can't stay here and talk nonsense with you," he muttered, "I want to see the game."
"'About this!'"