The two went out, in time to see Langridge approaching the three young ladies. The Boxer Hall pitcher was striding over the grass toward Miss Harrison, who stood a little apart from her two friends. "I'm awfully sorry to have kept you waiting, Miss Mabel," began Langridge. "The truth was, I had an important engagement, that I came near forgetting." "You haven't kept me waiting," was the cool answer. "No? Well, I'm glad of it. Now, if you're ready we'll trot along. I met a friend of mine, Mr. Bascome, of Randall, and he will take us back to Fairview in his auto." "Thank you, I don't care to go," replied Miss Harrison. "What? Don't you like rides in the gasolene gig?" asked Langridge, with a forced laugh. "Oh, I didn't exactly mean that," went on Miss Harrison. "It's the company I object to." "You mean Bascome? Why he's all right. Maybe he's a little too----" "I mean you!" burst out the girl, flashing a look of scorn on him from her blue eyes. "I don't care to ride with a person who seeks to take unfair advantage of another in a ball game." "You mean that mirror? That was all an accident--I assure you it was. I didn't intend anything--honestly." "You will favor me by not speaking to me again!" came in snapping tones from the indignant girl. "I shall refuse to recognize you after this, Mr. Langridge." "Oh, but I say now----" protested the bully, as he took a step forward. But Mabel linked her arm in that of Ruth, and, as Tom and Phil came along just then, Langridge, who was aware that they had heard the foregoing conversation, slipped hastily away, with a very red face. "Sorry to have kept you waiting," began Tom, unconsciously repeating the remark of Langridge. Miss Harrison seemed a little ill at ease, and Phil blurted out: "Oh, come on! Let's hurry, or there won't be any ice cream left at Anderson's. It's a hot day and the crowd must be dry as a bone. I know I am. Come on, girls." They had a merry little time, until it was necessary for the girls to return to Fairview, whither Tom and Phil escorted them. "Did you say any more to Langridge, old man?" asked Tom of Sid, that night in the room of the "inseparables." "No, it wasn't necessary." "You should have heard Miss Harrison lay him out," exulted Phil. "She certainly put it all over him!" "How?" demanded Sid eagerly, and his chums took turns telling him how the blue-eyed girl had given Langridge his "walking papers" in a manner very distasteful to that individual. "No! You don't mean it!" exclaimed Sid joyfully. Then, as a look came into his eyes that his chums had not seen there since the first happy days he had experienced with Mabel Harrison, Sid went on: "Say, what's the date of the Junior racket? I've mislaid my tickets." "Why?" asked Tom mischievously, though he well knew. "None of your affair," retorted Sid, but there was no sting in his answer. "It's next Friday," put in Phil.