"That's my last ride in her," said Morris regretfully as he got out.

"Oh, I don't know," said Gordon. "He may give you a lift some time."

Morris smiled. "I meant the last time I'd run her," he amended. "Gee, but I kind of hate to give her up, Gordon."

"She's a nice little car," replied the other, "even if she did try to break your neck for you. And she certainly looks dandy. And she runs as well as ever, doesn't she?"

"Better, it seems to me. I suppose she's getting the stiffness out of her. Well, we'd better hike along to dinner. You're sure your mother won't mind having me, Gordon?"

"She expects you. I telephoned I was bringing you. Come on."

It was long before two o'clock when the crowd began moving toward the field. Stewart, the liveryman, ran carriages from the station to the entrance and did a good business. At a few minutes before two Gordon and d.i.c.k and Lanny arrived. Mr. Potter was already on hand, instructing the two boys who were acting as ushers and keeping an eye on the amateur ticket seller at the gate. Tim Turner stood inside and took the tickets, dropping them into a tin box and looking as professional as you please.

d.i.c.k's gaze found the automobile the instant he was inside and he stopped short and stared at it. And no wonder, for a blue runabout placed imposingly in the center of a baseball diamond is about as incongruous a sight as one often sees.

"Wh-what the d.i.c.kens!" gasped d.i.c.k.

"Oh, that?" said Gordon. "That's the car that Morris just sold. Looks pretty well, doesn't it? Come on in the dressing-room."

"But what's it doing there?" asked d.i.c.k. "Whose is it?"

"I suppose someone left it there. Gee, d.i.c.k, look at the crowd here already! We'll have to have groundrules if they keep coming!"

"Yes, I guess so. But-that car! It can't stand there, Gordie!"

"Of course not. It'll be out of the way by the time we're ready to practice, I dare say. There's Tom. Come on. We'd better get changed. It must be almost two."

d.i.c.k followed them into the dressing-room without further remarks, but it was plain to be seen that the incident of the misplaced automobile was occupying his thoughts. Most of the team had arrived and in another moment d.i.c.k found enough to attend to and talk about without further bothering his head with the blue runabout. The Point team came in a few minutes later and then there was a fine confusion and noise in there.

Everyone was in the best of spirits and there was no sign of animosity between the opponents. One might have thought, were it not for the difference in costumes, that the two dozen or so fellows were team-mates rather than rivals. It was the first time that most of the Clearfield fellows had seen the Rutter's Point players in their new togs, and they had to acknowledge that the white suits and blue-and-yellow-striped stockings were very attractive.

Of course Harold was there, score-book under arm, following d.i.c.k around closely. And Morris, too, in his capacity of honorary member of the visiting nine. Probably he would have been welcome in any case, for to-day was to witness the formal transfer of the field, in Morris's name, from Mr. Brent to the High School. Mr. Grayson, who had arrived home the day before, was to attend and Morris was to deliver the deed to him, as a sort of added attraction. Morris, however, didn't appear oppressed by his importance, a fact which his companions were quick to notice and approve.

At five minutes past the two teams went out to the diamond, and as they appeared, the band, ma.s.sed fourteen strong in front of the grandstand, broke into the triumphal strains of "See the Conquering Hero Comes." By that time the stand was filled to overflowing, the extra seats were well occupied and the settees sprinkled, while around the diamond what looked to the startled gaze of the players to be a vast a.s.semblage sat or stood.

"Jumpin' Jupiter!" muttered Fudge, his eyes very big and round.

"S-s-s-say, Jack, I won't b-b-b-be able to c-c-catch a thing!"

"I guess we'll all have stage-fright," replied Jack Tappen, with a rather nervous laugh. "Who would have thought all this crowd would have come? And look at the gate! They're still coming, Fudge!"

"G-g-guess I'll s-s-s-sneak home," said Fudge.

d.i.c.k was frankly puzzled. Instead of trotting into the field to begin practice, his charges were lounging over toward the plate, and with them went the Point team. Then d.i.c.k's eyes fell on that blue runabout again, and he frowned and followed the players, who by this time had gathered about it. Harold, who never allowed d.i.c.k to get more than six feet away from him, went, too.

"Someone will have to get that car out of here," announced d.i.c.k impatiently. "Whose is it, anyway?"

As the band, which had been blaring forth a twostep, stopped suddenly at a signal from Gordon, just in the middle of d.i.c.k's p.r.o.nouncement, he finished it in a voice which, owing to the silence, was audible halfway to the outfield. A ripple of amus.e.m.e.nt came from the nearer seats. d.i.c.k, embarra.s.sed by events and by an impending something that he sensed, looked blankly about the grinning faces.

"Wh-what's the matter?" he faltered, appealing to Gordon.

Gordon cleared his throat and took a step forward. The rest of the players shuffled into the semblance of a half-circle behind him and about the blue car. The audience, none of them in the secret but all suspecting interesting developments, grew very still.

"d.i.c.k," began Gordon, very red of countenance and nervous of manner, "we-that is--"

"Go to it, Gordie," murmured Lanny encouragingly. Gordon took a deep breath and another start:

"The Clearfield Baseball Club, in recognition of your services as manager and-and in token of its esteem and--"

"Respect and esteem," prompted Lanny, _sotto voce_.

--"Respect and esteem," corrected Gordon, who had prepared his speech with much care and had now pretty well forgotten it, "desires to present to you this automobile, in the hope-er-in the hope--"

"That it will provide--"

"--That it will provide both comfort and pleasure. It is with much-it is with much--"

Gordon looked imploringly at Lanny, but Lanny's gaze was fixed blankly on s.p.a.ce. He, too, had forgotten the lines! Fudge gave way to his nervousness and giggled. Gordon waved his hand toward the car. "And we hope you'll like it," he ended breathlessly.

There was an instant's silence, and then came a joyous screech from Harold. That was the signal for much hand-clapping and other evidences of applause from the spectators who, although Gordon's speech had not been audible to them, had by this time gathered that someone was being presented with the natty blue automobile. d.i.c.k, rather white of face, smiled.

"I-I--" he began. Then he faltered. When he went on his voice was husky. "Thank you, fellows," he said. "I don't see why you did it, but-but I appreciate it more than I can say. And-I can't make a speech, so I'll just say thank you and-you'll have to understand that it means a lot more than I can put in words!"

Then they cheered quite madly, being heartily glad to be over with the embarra.s.sment, and flocked around him and shook hands just as though they hadn't seen him for months!

"'It is with much pride that we offer this small token,'" said Lanny explosively in Gordon's ear. Gordon laughed derisively.

"What's the good now?" he demanded. "Why didn't you say that two minutes ago? You're a fine one to help a fellow!"

"Why didn't you remember it yourself?" asked Lanny, in an injured voice.

"Gee! You wrote it, didn't you?"

Morris jumped into the driver's seat of the car and d.i.c.k, impelled by friendly hands, climbed in beside him. Will Scott spun the crank, the engine purred, and, to the cheers and laughter of the fellows and the enthusiastic applause of the spectators, the blue runabout chugged around the field and back into an angle of the grandstand, while the band played loudly.

"I'll show you how to run it in two days, d.i.c.k," Morris said, as they circled the diamond. "You'll find it's as easy as anything you ever did."

"Did you know about it?" asked d.i.c.k curiously.

"Sure. It was Gordon's scheme; but he told me what he wanted to do and dad and I were strong for it."

"But-but where'd they get the money?" asked d.i.c.k.

"They haven't got it yet," chuckled Morris. "You have it!"

"I have--Oh, the baseball money!"

"Surest think you know, d.i.c.k!"

"Oh!" d.i.c.k gave a sigh of relief. "I was afraid they'd paid for it out of their pockets or-or somehow. I-I knew for two or three weeks that they were up to something, but I never suspected this. Say, doesn't it just get there!"

"She's a fine little car," agreed Morris proudly, as he brought it to a stop behind the extra seats. "And I'll just bet you'll be crazy about her, d.i.c.k, in a week!"