Amidst laughter Mr. Langham agreed to supply the deficiency for Jones and for any other boy whose funds were unequal to the demand, and enthusiasm reigned. Out of the babel that ensued Mr. Haskins was heard to inquire mildly when it was planned to make the trip. The Chief considered. “This is Thursday,” he said finally. “If we say a week from to-day for the game we will have five days for practice. Would that be sufficient, Andy?” Mr. Gifford thought it would. “Very well, then. I’ll write Scovill to-morrow that we’ll be with him next Thursday loaded for bear. We’ll stay at his camp Thursday night and start the hike the next day. To-morrow we’ll get the map and work it out. I’ll leave the matter of forming the team to you, Andy. But you and Steve and Sam had better count on playing, I think. I dare say they’ve got a pretty good team up there and we don’t want them to beat us too badly.” “With five afternoons of practice,” replied Mr. Gifford confidently, “we can turn out a nine that will put the ‘acid’ in ‘Placid’!” And above the laughter Mr. Haskins was heard soberly and earnestly agreeing. CHAPTER XI MAKING THE NINE Busy days followed. The Wigwam fixed its mind on the following Thursday and laboured enthusiastically. On the morning after Mr. Langham’s announcement Mr. Gifford, Sam, and Steve walked up the slope to what was known as the Pulpit Tree, a big beech, under whose far-spreading branches divine service was held on Sundays when the weather permitted. There, sitting cross-legged on the ground, they held council over the making of the baseball team that was to represent the camp. “Let’s start with the battery,” said Mr. Gifford. “Of course George Porter will pitch.” “He may not last the game, though,” said Sam. “The question is who shall we put in after him?” “One of us, I guess. Can you twirl?” Sam shook his head. “Neither can I,” said Steve. “How about you, Andy?” “A little; at least, I’ve done some of it. But I haven’t anything much on the ball. I used to be able to pitch an out-shoot that sometimes got over, and that’s about all, except a fairly fast ball.” “My idea, then,” said Sam, “would be for you to start the game and hold them as long as you can. Then we’ll put in Porter.” “Maybe they won’t tumble to you for three or four innings,” said Steve encouragingly. “I dare say Porter will be able to go six. You’ll catch, Sam?” “Why, yes, I suppose so. Or if you think we’d better give the fellows all the show we can, Benson could start.” “We need a steady catcher, Sam. Of course, we want to let the fellows get all the fun they can out of it, but there’s no use throwing the game away on that account. Battery, then, to start, Gifford and Craig.” He set it down on the pad he held. “Now then, who for first?” “Wait a minute,” said Sam. “Where’s Steve going to play?” “Put me in the outfield,” said Steve. “I can catch a fly fairly well, but that’s about the limit of my abilities.”