there
were enough new buildings being erected in the neighborhood without
that.

Sid made an announcement on the following Monday which made the
postponement of that last bit of construction work imperative.

"Saw the captain of the 'Jeffersons,'" he beamed as the little group
gathered about him on the baseball diamond. "We're going to play 'em
this Saturday."

"What?" John exploded. Sid nodded his head.

"They've got the best team around," Silvey broke out. "And they've been
practicing in the park ever since the snow melted. How can we lick 'em
now?"

Sid shrugged his shoulders aggravatingly.

"Haven't you any brains at all?" John stormed.

"I'm captain," Sid snapped back at the insurgents. "I'm running this
team. If you don't like it, you can quit!"

The voice of Skinny Mosher, the peacemaker, broke in: "Aw, kids, never
mind. 'Tain't so bad as it looks. Let's start practicing now, and maybe
we can beat 'em anyway."

It was excellent advice, and the boys scampered over the tracks for
home, to return singly and in pairs with their baseball paraphernalia.
John took up his old position at first, and Silvey donned his catcher's
mitt to receive and return imaginary balls thrown by the other players.
Red Brown and Perry Alford stationed themselves at second and shortstop
respectively, while the Harrison boys stood around and waited until duty
should call them to the outfield.

"Where's Skinny and Sid?" asked John as he glanced around.

"There's Mosher, now," exclaimed Silvey, as a tall and diminutive figure
made their way down the railroad embankment. "Kid brother with him as
usual."

"Had to bring him," the unfortunate elder boy exclaimed when he reached
the diamond. "Ma wouldn't let me come unless I did."

They accepted the affliction resignedly. "He can watch," said Silvey.
"Come on, John. Toss up your little ball while we're waiting."

Accordingly, the first baseman brought out a lopsided ten-cent ball and
threw it toward third. Skinny Mosher dropped the sphere as if it were a
hot coal.

"Go easy," he cautioned. "Sid hasn't brought my glove yet."

The elder Harrison boy who aspired to fill Joe Menard's place, ran over
to the pitcher's box, and the tossing was resumed. From third to first,
second to pitcher, and then to Silvey, and back again. Muscles became
limbered and arms more certain of their mark. Skinny misgauged a swift
throw from John and caught the ball on the tip of his fingers.

"Jiminy!