nd map reading.
Finally that part of the meeting was over. A voice cried, "How about
Lonesome Woods?" There were cheers and shouts.

There wasn't much debate about the trip. There was, however, a hot
wrangle about the day. Finally it went to a vote, and Thursday was
selected.

"Gee!" said Tim. "I bet that will be a great hike."

The meeting adjourned. A scout of the Eagle patrol caught Don's arm.

"What team do you pitch against tomorrow?" he asked.

"Little Falls," said Don.

Tim's face lost its animation and grew dark. He walked toward the door.
And Don, watching him, wondered why it was that fellows were always asked
questions at the wrong time.

By this time Don knew that Tim, whenever anything peeved him, could be
counted on to display a reckless streak. For a moment this worried him;
then he brushed the thought aside. He was always fretting about Tim,
and nothing serious was ever happening.

He had planned to mow the lawn and spade the flower beds next morning. It
was well that he went early to his task, for at ten o'clock Ted Carter
came for him.

"You had better come to the field," the captain said. "No pitching--just
a little throwing to bases. I've dug up a fellow named Marty Smith to
cover first. I want you to get used to each other."

Don evened off the flower beds, carried the raked-up grass around to the
chickens, and put the gardening tools away.

"Dinner at twelve sharp," Barbara called after him.

At first he felt odd, throwing to the bag and not finding Ted there. He
made some crazy tosses. But Marty's long reach always saved him, and
Marty's cheery voice kept calling, "That's the stuff; that's what will
get them."

Another first-baseman, Don thought, would be scolding about the throws.
His heart warmed to the newcomer. He began to feel at home. His throws
steadied and became sure.

"That's enough," Ted called. "Nobody'll get much of a lead on you
fellows. Now for some fielding."

Don walked over to the shade of the maple tree. Intent on watching the
field, he did not notice the small figure that took a place at his side.

"Hello, Don," said a voice.

"Oh! Hello, Bobbie! What's the matter, you look worried?"

"I'm all right," Bobbie said hastily.

Don turned his eyes to the field. Even though his interest was completely
absorbed, he thought, subconsciously, that the boy at his elbow was very
restless.

By and by the dwindling tree shadows warned him that it was time he
starte