“How much rent?” asked Tommy, anxiously.
“Rent? Not a cent!” said Mr. Bashford, with a laugh. “I’ll be glad to see another nine in town. I like baseball. You can play here free.”
Tommy was delighted to hear this, for if they did not have to pay anything for the use of the lot there would be so much more money to build a back-stop and get balls, bats and gloves.
“Maybe we can even get uniforms!” thought the boy eagerly, as he looked at the big lot where he intended to lay out a diamond. “If we could, we’d be a regular nine, and could play other teams.”
“Well, I’m going to get some of my men and have that bull locked up,” went on Mr. Bashford. “You children had better run along home now, or he may get loose again. He’s very bad at jumping fences.”
“Are you afraid to go home?” asked Tommy of Sallie Grubb.
“Not—not very much,” she replied, hesitatingly.
“I’ll go with you, anyhow,” he volunteered, “though there isn’t any more danger.”
“Not if you don’t cross the fields,” put in Mr. Bashford. “Well, you can use the lot any time you want to,” and Tommy, after thanking him, walked away with Sallie, while the bull continued to paw the earth and bellow in anger.
Sallie, when she reached home, gave such an account of the way that Tommy had made the bull turn head over heels that Mrs. Grubb got the idea that Tommy was quite a remarkable boy, indeed, whereas the truth was that he was just like other boys. But when he saw a thing needed doing he did it, and that as soon as he could.