Dick toiled faithfully; and he felt it as a kind of relief, late in the day, to be sent to the grocery-store, at the lower end of the village, with a basket that was to bring home the usual Saturday assortment for Mrs. Myers.
He did well enough in going; but on his way home, if the truth must be told, Dick Lee loitered dreadfully. It was so nice a day, and he had been so long at his woodpile, and he had had so little time to call his own that week.
Over on the green, the boys of the village were playing a sort of "match-game" of base-ball, with a picked nine from the academy; and there seemed no reason why Dick and his basket should not stroll along inside the barrier-fence of the green, and see them play it.
That was where his unwisdom showed itself; for among the boys who were not playing were Joe and Fuz Hart and all their "crowd," and this was the first time they had seen Dick on the green "all alone."
That would have been quite enough of itself, considering how black he was, and that he was a "new boy" at the academy; but the additional fact that he had his basket on his arm opened the way to trouble for him all the sooner.
He was standing still, on the walk near the fence, gazing at the batting and catching with so deep an interest that his mouth would stay open, when he suddenly found himself "surrounded."
"Hullo, Dick, what you got in your basket?"
"Groceries! Groceries! Fresh from Afriky."
"Let's see 'em."
"Jes' you keep off, now."