"O Death, where is thy sting?" murmured Laurie.
"There is, though," observed Ned, throwing his legs over the side of the Morris chair and eyeing Laurie quizzically, "just one complication that occurs to me. I've heard talk of the baseball team taking a Southern trip during recess. In that case, Laurie, I suppose you'd go along."
"Honest?" exclaimed Kewpie anxiously. "I didn't know that!"
"Nor any one else," said Laurie, frowning. "Don't you know yet when Ned's joshing?"
"Oh," breathed Kewpie with immense relief. "I thought maybe—"
"A swell chance I'd have of going with the team if it did go," said Laurie. "I can't play ball. I didn't make a hit this afternoon. Couldn't even see the old pill! Guess I'll quit and go in for—for soccer or rowing."
"Yes, rowing would be nice for you," said Ned. "You're so big and strong! It's a wonder to me they haven't grabbed you for the boat before this!"
"I'll bet I could row as well as you, you old bluffer!"
