Frank Roscoes Secret | Page 2

catcher was obliged to jump to reach the whizzing ball. He just
missed it, the leather sphere grazing the tips of his fingers. Then it flew
over his head, while there sounded a groan from the Lakeville
supporters. The game was a High School victory.
An instant later Ned had passed the chagrined catcher and had touched
the home plate, while the High School boys stood up on the bleachers
and made themselves hoarse with cheers. Joining them came the shrill
cries of the girls of Darewell, quite a throng of whom had come to see
the game.
"Good, Ned!" cried Bart, as he ran up to grasp his chum by the hand.

"That's the stuff!" exclaimed Fenn Masterson. "I knew you could do it,
Ned!"
"That's more than I knew myself," Ned answered, panting from his
home run.
"Three cheers for the Darewells!" called the captain of the preparatory
school nine.
The tribute to victory was paid with a will.
"Three cheers for the Lakevilles!" shouted Lem Gordon, pitcher on the
High School team.
The winners fairly outdid their rivals in cheering. Then the diamond
was thronged with girls and boys, all talking at once, and discussing the
various points of the game.
"It was a close chance you took, Ned," remarked a tall, quiet youth,
coming up to the winner of the game.
"I had to, Frank. I didn't risk much in being put out, but it meant a lot if
I could get home, and I took the chance."
"Oh, Ned's always willing to take chances," said Bart Keene.
"Yes, and sometimes it isn't a good thing," replied Frank.
"Oh, you're too particular," came from Fenn Masterson. "What's the use
of doing the safe thing all the while?"
"That's right, Stumpy my boy," commented Ned, "Stumpy" being
Fenn's nickname because of his short, stout figure.
"Oh, I believe in taking chances once in a while," went on Frank, "but
of course--"
He did not finish his sentence, and his three chums looked at one
another, for Frank seemed to be dreaming of something far removed

from the ball game.
"He's getting stranger than ever," remarked Bart to Ned in a low tone.
"We'll have to get his mind off of whatever it is that's troubling him."
"That's right," agreed Ned.
"We ought to celebrate this victory in some way," suggested Fenn, as a
crowd of boys, including several members of the ball team, joined the
chums. "We ought to get up a dinner and have speeches and things like
that."
"Nothing to eat, of course," said Ned.
"Oh, sure; lots to eat," Fenn hastened to add.
"Where could we have it?" asked Lem.
"In our barn," replied Fenn. "There's lots of room, and we don't keep
horses any more. It's nice and clean. We could put some boards over
saw-horses to make tables, and have a fine time. We can make all the
noise we want, and no one would say a word."
"That's the stuff!" cried Bart. "The very thing! Stumpy, you're a
committee of one to see about it."
"I'm not going to do all the work!" objected Stumpy.
"I'll help," put in Ned. "Where'll we get the stuff?"
"I guess there's enough in the club treasury for a little spread," said Bart.
"This is the last game of the summer season, and we might as well
spend some of our cash. We don't want to get too rich."
By this time most of the High School pupils had left the ball grounds
and were on their various ways home. It was a Saturday afternoon early
in June, and the fine weather had brought a big crowd to see the game,
which was played on the Lakeville grounds. The members of the High
School nine, including a few substitutes, rode home in a big stage, but

trolley cars took the other Darewell boys and girls back.
On the way home the dinner was discussed in its various details, and it
was voted to have it a week from that Saturday night.
"Better not talk too much about it," suggested Bart
"Why not?" asked Stumpy.
"I've got an idea that if too much is known about it there may be
trouble."
"Trouble? What do you mean?"
"Well, you know the first-year boys have formed a sort of secret
society. They call themselves the Upside Down Club."
"What has that got to do with our dinner?"
"Nothing, maybe, and again it may have."
"Have they any grudge against us?" asked Ned.
"No, nothing special, but it's part of their game to play tricks on all the
other school societies, from the athletic teams to the debating club.
Archie Smith, a cousin of mine, belongs, and I got that much out of
him before he knew what I was after. Then