CHAPTER VII.
DAVE TALKS WITH ONE HAND The next afternoon Fred and his father went over to Duxbridge.
They found the great Everett at home, and not only at home, but willing to take up with their proposal.
The celebrated professional pitcher named a price that caused Lawyer Ripley to hesitate for a few moments.

Then catching the appealing look in his son's face, the elder Ripley agreed to the terms.

The training was to be given at Duxbridge, in Everett's big and almost empty barn.
That night Lawyer Ripley, a man of prompt habit in business, mailed his check for the entire amount.
Fred, in the privacy of his own room, danced several brief but exuberant jigs.
"Now, I've got you, Dick Prescott! And I've not only got you, but if you come in second to me, I'll try to keep in such condition that I pitch every important game of the whole season!" But the next morning the Ripley heir received a sad jolt.

In one of his text-books he ran across a piece of cardboard on which was printed, in coarse characters: "Tuday, same plas, same time.

Bring ten.