Though a bit stiff, Tommy was able to play ball the next day, and his nine won from another composed of lads about their own age, from a nearby town.
“Oh, we’ve got a fine team!” cried Tommy. But, alas! the very next week they met defeat, and at the hands of a team younger than themselves.
Tommy was much downcast and nothing his chums could say made him feel better.
“We’ve got to practice more!” he declared, and from then on, nearly every afternoon when school was out, the lads met on the lot, and had practice at batting and catching, sometimes playing a scrub game.
In the meanwhile, neither Sam nor Jakie bothered Tommy any more, though, occasionally, Jakie made sneering remarks.
Tommy spent all his spare time at baseball, and his mother said he even talked it in his sleep. But he was very enthusiastic about it, and so was every member of his team.
Only about half the nine had uniforms, and Tommy’s dearest wish was to get them all fitted out. But some of the boys were too poor to afford the suits.
“I wonder how we could make a little extra cash?” asked Herbert Kress.
“Why not give a show?” suggested Georgie Pennington.
“What kind?” asked Tommy.