“Well, we’ll need it to see what we’re doing. About ten, though, I think. Is that twelve o’clock striking? Gee, I must run along. I promised my mother I’d dig up a flower bed this morning. See you later, fellows.”
“Wait a second and I’ll drop you around there,” said Dick, reaching for his crutches. “By the way, Gordie, if you see Way tell him not to forget to stop and get half a dozen new balls. I told him yesterday, but he’s likely to forget it. And don’t you forget that practice is at two-thirty to-day!”
“Ay, ay, sir! Can we have a game to-day, Dick?”
“Yes, but I want a good hour’s work beforehand. Turn her over, will you, Lanny? I’m going to have a self-starter put on her some day if I can find the money.”
Eli Yale, that being the full name of the blue runabout, rolled out of sight up B Street toward Lanny’s home and Gordon, reminded by Lanny’s remark of his own duties in the way of gardening, descended the porch and passed around the side of the house toward the shed in search of a spade. As he came in sight of the apple tree in the next yard he glanced inquiringly toward the platform. It was, however, empty.
“I wonder,” muttered Gordon, “where Fudge is keeping himself. I haven’t seen him around for almost a week.”
Could he have caught sight of his neighbor at that moment he would probably have been somewhat surprised.
CHAPTER IX
THE NEW SIGN
“Quit wobbling!” hissed Fudge.