"He's thinking of all the outs he is going to make," put in Plum, slyly.
"Not an out for yours truly," returned the story-teller. "But to get back to the little girl. Says she to her papa, 'Papa, did you say a baseball club has a pitcher?' 'Yes, my dear,' says papa. 'Well, do they have a sugar-bowl too?'" And at this anecdote the boys smiled.
Jackson Lemond was driving the carryall. He had a team of horses which the doctor had purchased only a few weeks before. They were a mettlesome pair, and the Hall driver did not altogether understand them. At times they went along very well, but at others they "cut up simply awful," to use Horsehair's way of expressing it.
"Why don't you let the team out, Horsehair?" asked one of the boys, presently. "We don't want to take all day to get to Hilltop."
"I hate to give 'em too much headway," answered the driver. "The road ain't none of the best along here, and there ain't no telling what they might do."
"We'll have to hurry some," said Dave. "I want some time to warm up, and so do the others."
"Maybe it will rain and the game will have to be called off," was Phil's comment, with an anxious look at the overcast sky.
"Oh, it's not going to rain just now," answered Henshaw.
They had just reached the top of a long hill and were preparing to go down the other side, when they heard a tooting behind them.
"Here comes an automobile!" cried Phil, looking back.
"I know that machine," answered Buster. "It belongs to some of the students at Rockville--two cousins, I think. They brought it down from Portland, Maine, where they come from."
"It is full of Rockville fellows," said Sam. "They want to pass us," he added, as the tooting sounded louder.
"It's a narrow road to pass on," grumbled Horsehair. "Whoa, there!" he cried to his team.
For the horses had begun to prick up their ears and dance about at the sound of the automobile horn.
"Clear the road, for we are coming!" came the cry from behind, and then with a tooting of the horn, a puffing from the engine, and a wild yelling from the occupants, the big touring car shot past the carryall with less than three inches to spare, and plunged down the hill at a speed that soon carried it out of sight in a cloud of dust.
