“Some cat!” murmured Melvin.
“Yes,” assented Slim, “and he was a good-hearted cat too. Some folks say that a cat thinks only of himself, but do you know what that cat did?
“One day, the baby of the house had lost his rattle and was crying. The cat sat looking at him for a minute. Then he went out in the yard, bit the rattles off a dead snake and brought it in and laid it down near the baby. You see—”
But what Slim saw just at that moment was a pillow coming toward his head. He dodged with an agility born of long practice; and the laughing crowd went out with Fred into the bright April morning.
They scattered out on the diamond, on which Big Sluper and his assistants had been busy for some days past, and which was already in condition for a game. The turf was smooth and springy, the base paths had been rolled until they were perfectly level, and the foul lines stretched away toward left and right field.
“Won’t we have some bully times here this spring?” exulted Fred.
“Bet your life we will!” assented Teddy, turning a handspring. “And I’m going to play shortstop and don’t you forget it!”
“Don’t be too sure of that,” Fred cautioned him. “It’ll be nip and tuck between you and Shorty Ward for the position. And Shorty’s a pretty nifty player.”
“I know he is,” admitted Teddy. “But I’m going to make a fight for it.”
“There’s Ned Wayland and Professor Raymond over there now, sizing the fellows up,” said Fred. “They’re from Missouri and will have to be shown. Get out there and I’ll knock you some hot grounders.”