“Oh, I like to keep busy,” declared Tommy; and then the lads talked more baseball, until they reached the grocery. On the way they passed the now empty moving vans which had brought the Tiptop goods to town. The man on the one on which Tommy had ridden waved his hand to the lad, and the man with the big feet, who was on the other wagon, shouted:
“It’s all right, youngster. I didn’t step on anybody to-day, and I’m mighty glad of it, ’cause when I do step I generally squashes something. Good-by!”
“Good-by,” answered Tommy, with a laugh.
The household arrangements were rather upset for the Tiptops that night, as they always are the first day of a moving. But Mrs. Tiptop managed to get a good supper, and all went to bed early. Tommy was delighted with his room in the attic, and he fell asleep thinking of how he could decorate it, and have a boys’ club meet there.
“Will you need me, mother?” he asked the next morning. “Can I help you settle?”
“No; you might as well run out and play,” she answered. “I might step on you if you were around,” she added, with a laugh, as she imitated the voice of the moving man with the big feet. “Nellie will help me,” she added, “and I have a scrub-woman coming in. Where are you going?”
“To see Mr. Bashford, and ask him if we can use his lot for the ball nine.”
“Well, don’t be late for dinner. Your papa comes home at twelve. He said he’d see about sending you to school on Monday. You had better stop at that glass-man’s on your way, and tell him to please be sure and send somebody to fix the broken window to-day.”
“I will, and after this there won’t be any danger. We are going to play a good ways off from houses.”
“Perhaps you can’t get the lot.”