June and Zona eagerly talked over the plans, deciding on the girls to be invited. Doris took little part in this, which June finally noticed. “What’s the matter?” she questioned. “Oh, she was just about heartbroken over that game,” quickly explained Zona. “She can’t seem to forget it.” “Nor I,” confessed June. “And I think I should feel worse than any one, for my brother pitched. We will make you forget it to-night, Doris.” “I am not feeling well,” said Doris. “I—I don’t know as I can go.” “Oh, goodness! What nonsense! Of course you will come. Why, we couldn’t get along without you.” “Of course you will!” Zona joined in. Suddenly through Doris’ mind flashed the thought: “It is my opportunity to show him I don’t care.” Immediately she said: “Well, June, if Miss Tartington gives permission I will come.” CHAPTER VI. A RISING CLOUD. June’s party came off as arranged, and a jolly party it proved to be. Besides the members of the baseball team, Darrell, Smart, and one or two others were invited. Obediah Tubbs was on deck, with his “weather eye” peeled for pie. Chip Jolliby, stammering and awkward, yet bubbling with good nature, provided considerable amusement. There were games of various sorts, card-playing, music, and singing. Billy Bradley found a jolly little black-eyed girl, who interested him immensely, and to whom he gave pronounced attention. He was trying to entertain her when Ted Smart drifted up. “When do the drinkables float on?” inquired Ted. “I suppose they are going to have lemonade, or fruit punch, or something? It’s about time.” He pulled out his watch and looked at it. “By the way,” he chirped, “why should a thirsty man always carry a watch?” “’Anged hif Hi ’now!” confessed Billy. “’E surely can’t drink hout hof hit.” “Why not?” chuckled Ted. “Every watch has a spring inside.” At this the little dark-eyed girl laughed heartily, while Billy slowly scratched his head, a puzzled look on his face. “Hi suppose that’s one hof your blooming Hamerican jokes!” he half growled. “Still Hi dunno ’ow ’e can get a drink hout hof hit.” “Oh, Mr. Bradley!” laughed the girl. “How funny you are!” “Lordy! Lordy!” muttered Ted. “I will have to show him the spring. Why, don’t you see, Sir William, any watch has a spring in it? A man who is thirsty can wet his whistle at a spring.” Still it was some moments before Billy managed to grasp the point. When he did he suddenly hit his knee a slap and gave a shout: “By Jove!” he exclaimed. “That’s a good one, don’t y’ ’now!” “How wonderfully quick you are to catch on!” chuckled Ted. “But I know another good one.” “Go a’ead and give hit to hus,” urged the Cockney youth. “What’s the hardest kind of soap?” asked Ted. “The ’ardest kind?” repeated Bill. “Why, there’s lots of ’ard soaps.” “But what’s the hardest kind?” persisted Ted. “Give it up?” “Hi suppose Hi’ll ’ave to. What his the ’ardest kind hof soap?”