"But we're up against Bancroft, and I see Jock Hoover has just finished warming up to pitch for them."
"That'll jest make it all the more interestin'. We've got a pitcher, too, I want you to know. I signed him myself, and he'll make 'em set up and take notice. You jest watch Tom Locke when he goes inter the box."
"I've heard something about him. Who is he? And where did you get him?"
Running the handkerchief round the sweatband inside his soiled straw hat, Henry Cope winked shrewdly, and covered his shining dome.
"Why, didn't I tell ye his name is Tom Locke? Never mind where I picked him up. He's got the goods, and he'll deliver 'em. If he don't jest naturally make them Bullies break their backs poundin' empty air to-day, I'll be the most s'prised man in the county."
"Oh, I hope he is good!" exclaimed the girl. "Everybody in town was disappointed over the way Bancroft beat us last year. They all said we needed one corking good pitcher to put up against Bancroft's best man."
"We've got him," assured Henry Cope. "We've got the very feller in this here Locke. You watch and see."
