“Yes,” replied Tommy, “it’s my team. I’m going to have a nine of boys about my size, only we can’t get any place to play. I came down to-day to look at this lot, and then I heard this little girl scream, and——”
“Oh, I’m so glad you made that bull turn a somersault!” exclaimed the girl. “He was mean to me!”
“Yes, you want to be careful how you cross the lots, Sallie,” said Mr. Bashford. “Run along home now.”
“All right,” she answered. “My name is Sallie Grubb,” she went on to Tommy.
“Are you Joie Grubb’s sister?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, “and I know who you are. Joie told me about you. You’re the new boy who’s going to have a ball nine.”
“I am, if we can get a lot to play in,” replied our hero, looking at the farmer and smiling.
“Humph!” exclaimed Mr. Bashford. “I guess after what you did to-day I’ll have to let you use the lot. What’s your name?”
Tommy told him, adding something about how he had just moved to town, and how he wanted to start a ball nine.
“Well, you can use the lot,” said Mr. Bashford finally, “and I guess I’ll have to lock my bull up. Yes, bellow away, old fellow!” he called to the animal. “You won’t get a chance to chase little girls much longer. Tell the boys they can play here all summer,” went on the farmer. “In the fall I may plow up this field, but I won’t do anything with it right away.”