"My crowd is going to get the first whack at the Rambler Club's ball nine, Roy," he exclaimed.
A peculiarly sarcastic expression came over his face as Roy flung back:
"Cut that out, Nat. You mean the school team."
"Last season we trimmed the Goose Hill bunch," went on Wingate. "You know what a husky lot they are. Tony Tippen was in the box for us. If any of the scouts from the big leagues ever get to this burg I shouldn't wonder a bit if they'd snap him up."
"I'd be satisfied with the minors," laughed Earl. "Whew! The air is kind of chilly to-day, Nat. Roger Steele didn't think he'd have the boys practicing outside of the gym until next week. Great Scott, but that fellow can sprint!"
"Wonder if he learned the trick by having wildcats chase him out of the woods," laughed Nat. "Ha, ha! We met one once. John Hackett and our crowd ran across the Ramblers on their first trip, and——"
A salvo of cheers suddenly interrupted his sentence, and upon looking up to see the cause of it the captain of the Kingswood Stars saw a stout, round-faced boy advancing leisurely to the home plate.
"Ha, ha! We're going to see the new editor of the high school 'Reflector' in action. Did you read the last copy of that sheet, Earl?"
Roycroft nodded.
"Sure thing, Nat. Dave has written a history of the Rambler Club. The first instalment appears in the 'Reflector's' next issue. Guess there isn't a fellow in the school who won't dive into his pocket for a nickel. Hello, Spearman!"