TOMMY EARNS SOME MONEY
“Here, we’ll help you untie the knots in your clothing,” offered
Teddy. “And maybe we can find your shoes, if we look a little more.”
“I surely hope we can,” spoke Tommy, who had managed to get his shirt
on. “I don’t see who could have done this.”
“Oh, someone sneaked up when we weren’t looking,” was the opinion of
Herbert Kress.
“Yes, and I believe I know who it was!” suddenly exclaimed Billie
Ruggler. “It was that Jakie Norton. He did it to get even with Tommy
for taking the bat away from him that time.”
“I believe you’re right,” agreed Teddy. “If we had Jakie here now,
there’s enough of us to duck him! How about it?”
“Sure we would!” came in a chorus from the other lads. They had
succeeded by this time in getting most of the knots out of Tommy’s
clothes, and now, as the boys were nearly all dressed, they began a
more careful search for the missing shoes.
“Here they are!” suddenly called Mortimer Manchester, who had gone
some distance back from the brook. “They’re in this old stump, and
they’re filled with sand and gravel. That was a mean trick, all
right!”
“It sure was!” agreed the other boys, while Tommy hurried over
to claim his footwear. The shoes were filled to the top with the
wet material from the banks of the stream, and even when they were
emptied they were damp and hard to put on.
“But it’s better than not finding them at all,” observed Tommy. “I
can manage to squeeze my feet into ’em,” which he did.
“I don’t see how Jakie Norton—if it was him that did it—could sneak
up and we not see him,” observed Joie Grubb.
“He probably did it when we were splashing each other in the water
and making a lot of noise,” was the opinion of Georgie Pennington.
“He might have grabbed up Tommy’s clothes, hid back in the bushes
until he had the knots in ’em, and then he tossed ’em over here. He
took the shoes farther off with him.”
This was about the only way the boys could figure out that the trick
had been played, and, as they walked toward the town, they talked
over what they would like to do to the bully if they could catch him
while they were all together. Alone, none of them would have been
strong enough to engage in a tussle with Jakie.
It was rather an unpleasant ending to the day’s fun, but it might
have been much worse, as Tommy said, if he had not found his shoes.
“Well, how is the baseball nine coming on?” asked Tommy’s father of
him one evening about a week after the swimming fun just mentioned.
“Have you challenged any other teams yet?”
“No, but I expect to soon. We had a meeting up in my room, and I’m
captain of the nine.”
“I should think you would be, you got it up all alone,” said Nellie.
“Don’t you own the nine, Tommy?”
“Of course not, and, just because a fellow gets up a nine, that
doesn’t say he is going to be captain. The captain has to be the best
player,” explained the lad. “Of course I don’t say I _am_ the best,”
he hastened to add, “but the fellows said I was good, and they hadn’t
ever had a nine before, so that’s why they wanted me to be captain.”
“But when are you going to play games, Tommy?” asked his mother.
“Oh, pretty soon now. We’ve got the grounds nearly fixed, and we’ve
had a lot of practice. We’ve got to build a back-stop next, and
the catcher needs a mask. We’ve got enough balls and bats and a
few gloves,” he went on. “Some of the fellows took a pair of their
father’s old gloves, cut off the finger-tops and stuffed the inside
with cotton. I wish I had an old pair to fix up.”
“I guess I can find some,” said Mr. Tiptop.
“I don’t s’pose you could lend the team enough money to get boards
for a back-stop, could you, pa?” asked Tommy, wistfully.
“I’m afraid not,” was the answer. “You see, it cost me quite a bit to
move here, Tommy, and I can’t afford to let you have any more than I
allow you every week. But why can’t you boys earn money yourselves?”
“There doesn’t seem to be many ways of earning money here,” replied
the lad. “Back in Millton, now, I could make a lot cutting grass.
But they don’t have many front lawns here, and people let the grass
grow as long as it likes in the back yards. I asked a lady, two or
three houses down from here, the other day, if she didn’t want her
back grass cut, and she said it didn’t matter because no one saw it,
anyhow. I’ll cut our front grass for fifteen cents,” went on Tommy,
quickly, looking at his father.
“All right,” agreed Mr. Tiptop. “I’ll pay you to-morrow. And, if I
were you, I’d go downtown after school, some days, and see if you can
run errands for any of the storekeepers. I know up at the factory
where I work we often need a boy to run errands and carry light
packages, when the regular boy is out. It’s too far away, or you
could come down there and earn a little money.”
“Well, with my ten cents and fifteen for cutting the grass, I’ll have
twenty-five cents,” went on Tommy. “That will help buy some wood, and
we’ve got about half a dollar in the treasury,” he added, proudly.
“Good luck to you!” cried Mr. Tiptop as his son went up to bed.
Tommy arose early the next morning and had most of the grass cut
before it was time to go to school. He finished it at noon, and
though he wanted to go and practice baseball playing with the boys
on the new diamond they had made, Tommy decided that he would go
downtown and see if he could not find a chance to earn money.
“Can I run any errands for you?” he asked in several stores. But
though the merchants were kind, and smiled at Tommy, they did not
need any help just then.
“I’ll try that florist’s over there,” decided our hero, as he got
in front of the flower place. “Maybe he has bouquets to send out
somewhere. Then, if I don’t get a chance, I’ll go back home and try
it again to-morrow.”
“Any errands to run?” he asked of the proprietor of the flower shop.
The man was standing behind the counter, holding a long box in his
hand.
“Errands!” he exclaimed. “Do you run errands?”
“I haven’t run any yet,” answered Tommy, with a smile, “but I’d like
to. Can’t I carry those flowers for you? I’ll be careful, and I’ll go
as fast as I can.”
“Humph!” exclaimed the man. “I do happen to want this box of roses
delivered in a hurry. My young man is away over on the other side of
town, and I don’t know when he will be back. But I don’t know you,
and these roses are worth about three dollars. How am I to know that
you won’t run away with them, instead of delivering them to the right
person? A lady wants to wear them to a party to-night. Of course you
_look_ like a nice, honest boy,” went on the man, with a smile, “but
I have to be careful. I lost some money once, trusting a boy I didn’t
know. Who are you and where do you live?”
“I’m Tommy Tiptop,” replied our hero, adding his address, “and I—”
“Tommy Tiptop, eh?” exclaimed the man. “Oh, I’ve heard about you.
You’re getting up a ball nine, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir, and I’m trying to earn money running errands, so we can
build a back-stop. But do you play ball?”
“Oh, no, but I’ve got a nephew who does—Mortimer Manchester. I’ve
heard him speak of you.”
“Yes, Mortimer is on my team,” spoke Tommy, proudly. “I think I will
let him play shortstop, but I’m not quite sure. I’m the captain,” he
explained.
“Yes, so Mortimer said. He’s taken quite a notion to you. Well, I’m
his uncle, and I guess we’re well enough introduced now. I’m glad you
happened to come in, Tommy, and I’m going to let you deliver these
roses. I’ll give you fifteen cents for taking them to this address.
Don’t be any longer than you can help, for they should have been
delivered some time ago. Here is your money. The roses are paid for,
and you needn’t come back here. Good luck to you!” and the florist
handed Tommy a dime and a five-cent piece.
[Illustration: _“Any Errands to Run,” He Asked of the Proprietor of
the Flower Shop._]
“Say, I am having luck to-day!” thought the boy as he put the box
of roses under his arm. “This is thirty cents I’ve earned. We’ll soon
have our back-stop built, and then I’m going to see if we can’t play
some regular teams. Do you know any team of our size?” he asked the
florist.
“Humph! Not in town. I once had an errand boy who lived in Freeport;
that’s the next village, you know. He belonged to a small nine there,
I heard him say.”
“What was his name?” asked Tommy, eagerly. “I wonder if I couldn’t
write to him? Maybe his team would play ours.”
“It’s worth trying,” suggested the florist. “His name was Joe Forker,
and he was the pitcher, I believe. Just address him at Freeport.
Everyone goes to the post-office there for their mail, and he’ll be
sure to get the letter. It isn’t so far but what the team there could
come over here to play, or you could go there.”
“I’ll do it!” decided Tommy, “and I wish, if we do have a game, that
you’d come to see it. We can’t charge any admission,” he added, “as
we haven’t any fence around the lot. But we are going to take up a
collection, and you needn’t put anything in the hat when it’s passed
around,” Tommy said, generously.
“Thanks!” exclaimed the florist. “Now, you’d better hurry on with the
roses.”
As Tommy was going out of the store he looked down in an alleyway and
saw a number of packing boxes. At once he had an idea.
“Are those boxes yours?” he asked of Mortimer’s uncle.
“Yes, and I don’t know what to do with ’em. Guess I’ll have to pay a
man to clear them out of the way.”
“Don’t do that!” exclaimed Tommy, quickly. “If you’ll let me take
’em, I’ll get some of the boys and clear ’em away for nothing, and
we’d be glad of the chance.”
“You’re welcome to them,” replied the man, whose name was Mr.
Fillmore. “But what are you going to do with them?”
“I think we can use some of ’em to make our back-stop with!”
exclaimed Tommy, and he hurried off with a big idea in his mind.