“There are some pretty good baseball players, though, in Kingswood,” said Tom. “I guess it’s up to us to take hold next spring and put a little ginger into our crowd.”
“You haven’t quite the shape for a ball player, Clifton,” remarked Victor, with a critical stare.
“Humph!” sniffed Tom.
“For goodness’ sake, finish that letter, Blake,” continued Victor, with a grin.
“‘I hear that the Kingswood High has a chance to get an athletic field,’” read Charlie. “‘Mr. Rupert Barry owns a large plot of ground which ought to make a dandy ball park. But, so far, it is only a rumor, and maybe a silly one, at that. You would think so if you saw some of the playing the K. H. S. has done recently.
“‘Tell Bob Somers what I said. Good-bye and good luck.
“‘Your old chum,
“‘Kirk.’”
“A nice long letter,” drawled Dave.
“Is that all you have to say about it?” demanded Tom.
“Well, Tom,” said Dave, slowly, “your suggestion needs consideration.”