“When are your old friends coming, Tommy?” asked his mother, as tired from practice, but happy and confident, her son came home to dinner.
“About one o’clock, on the trolley. I’m going to meet them.”
Several of his team accompanied the young captain to the point where the challenging members would leave the trolley. It was a sort of welcoming committee.
“Guess this must be their car,” spoke Tommy, after several electric vehicles had gone past without bringing the nine. “Yes, there they are!” he added as he caught sight of the heads of several lads thrust from the open windows.
“There he is!”
“Nice uniforms they got!”
“We’re a bigger team than they are.”
“Hello, Tommy Tiptop! How are you?”
“Glad to see you!”
These were only a few of the many expressions that were yelled forth as the car came to a stop. The next minute Tommy was in the midst of his former boy friends of Millton, laughing, talking and shaking hands with them.