“Who’s going to pitch for the school nine?” asked Belle.

“Dick Prescott,” declared Dave instantly.

“I’d like to,” nodded Dick, “but I’ve several good men against me.  Darrin may take it all away from me.  There are eight men down for pitching, altogether, so it isn’t going to be an easy cinch for anyone.”

“The nine always has more than one pitcher.  Why can’t you make the position of pitcher, too?” asked Belle, looking at Dave.

“Oh, I may make the job of brevet-pitcher on the second nine,” Dave laughed goodhumoredly.  “The only reason I put my name down for pitcher was so as to make the fight look bigger.”

“Who are the other candidates for pitcher?” asked Laura.

“Well, Ripley’s one,” replied Dave.

“Ripley?  Oh, he!” uttered Miss Bentley, in a tone of scorn.

“I understand he’s no fool of a pitcher,” Dick remarked.

“I congratulate him, then,” smiled Laura.

“On what?”

“Not being a fool in everything,” returned Laura.  Then she added, quickly: 

“I’m afraid that expresses my real opinion, but I’ve no right to say it.”

“There are two reasons why you shouldn’t say it,” added Dave, gravely.

“What are they?” Laura wanted to know.

“First of all—–­well, pardon me, but it sounds like talking about another behind his back.  The other reason is that Ripley isn’t worth talking about, anyway.”

“Now, what are you doing?” demanded Belle.

“Oh, well,” Dave replied, “Ripley knows my opinion of him pretty well.  But what are you doing this afternoon?”

“We’re going shopping,” Laura informed the boys as the quartette left the soda fountain.  “Do you care to go around with us and look at the displays in the stores?”

“That’s about all shopping means, isn’t it?” smiled Dick.  “Just going around and looking at things?”

“Then if you don’t care to come with us-----” pouted Miss Bentley.

“Stop—–­please do, I beg of you,” Dick hastily added.  “Of course we want to go.”

The two chums put in a very pleasant hour wandering about through the stores with the High School girls.  Laura and Belle did make some small purchases of materials out of which they intended to make gifts for the approaching holiday.

As they came out of the last store they moved toward the corner, the girls intending to take a car to pay a little visit to an aunt of Laura’s before the afternoon was over.

Dick saw something in one of the windows at the corner and signed to Dave to come over.  The two girls were left, momentarily, standing on the corner.

While they stood thus Fred Ripley came along.  His first lesson in pitching had been brief, the great Everett declining to tire the boy’s arm too much at the first drill.  So young Ripley, after a twelve-mile trip in the auto through the crisp December air, came swinging down the street at a brisk walk.