Greg raised the home-made ball to throw it.

"Here! Don't toss it, or you may put it out of business," objected
Prescott, taking it away from his friend.

"If the ball can't be thrown, then what on earth is it good for?"
questioned Darrin.

"I'll come to that by degrees," Dick promised. "Did you know
that dad has secured a license this year to sell fireworks at
his store?"

"Yes," nodded several of the boys.

"Well, yesterday, Dad had a lot of samples come in from the
manufacturers. There were a few of the extra big and noisy
torpedoes," Dick explained. "I got one of them and wrapped this
string and leather around it."

Then, in low tones, Dick confided to his comrades the use to which
he hoped to put the ball. There were a good many grins as the
plot dawned on the young diamond enthusiasts.

"That'll be a warm one, if it works," grinned Reade.

"Say, but I shall be hanging right around to see it happen," declared
Darrin.

Originally this Saturday game had been scheduled for two in the
afternoon. However, so many of the schoolboys in town wanted