“I’ll look after him,” promised the moving man.
“And nobody will step on him,” added the helper—the one with the big feet.
Then Tommy was fairly started on his journey, and he looked down from the high seat, almost wishing that he was a van driver, instead of going to be merely a baseball player.
“Are you the captain?” asked the moving man, suddenly.
“Captain of what?” asked Tommy.
“Of the baseball nine.”
“No, I haven’t really got it started yet. You see, I don’t know any of the boys in that place we’re going to, but if I can get up a team, I may be manager or captain. I haven’t decided yet.”
“Oh,” said the man, and then he laughed, and Tommy wondered why.
“They’re a good team,” said the man after a while.
“What team?” asked Tommy quickly.