For the Central Grammar School squad was marching toward the field, having just left the schoolhouse.  At the head of all, chin well up, marched Old Dut.  Back of him, two and two, marched Dick Prescott and his players.  What marvel had been worked?  For the Central boys wore uniforms that made Hi Martin’s fellows look like so many gaudy figures on a cheap poster!

Chapter IV

THE STORY OF THE UNIFORMS

“Great Scott!” gasped Hi Martin, in sheer dismay, his gaze fixed on the approaching Centrals.

“Where in the mischief did they get those uniforms?” demanded Tom Percival, of the North Grammars, his mouth agape.

“Well, they have ’em, anyway,” added Bill Rodgers.  “And they certainly look more than fine, don’t they?”

“The uniforms are made of cheap stuff, I’ll wager,” muttered Hi hoarsely.  There was a choke in his throat over seeing his own nine so badly eclipsed in appearance by the despised Central Grammars.

Not less astonished were the Central Grammar boy spectators themselves.  Not one, outside of the baseball squad, had known that any uniforms were to be worn on the field.

“Huh!” remarked Ted Teall, captain of the South Grammars, to one of his lieutenants.  “We are the only school nine in town now without a uniform.  When we get on the field to play we’ll look like a lot of rag-pickers, won’t we?”

“I know where they got ’em,” choked Hi at last.  “Their principal, Old Dut Jones, wouldn’t see his boys look too badly compared with us, so he bought ’em as good uniforms as he could afford.  It’s a shame.  That’s what it is.”

If Captain Dick and his baseball players walked rather proudly onto the field, it may have been partly due to the fact that they now knew that their uniforms were anything but “cheap.”  In point of fact, their uniforms had cost more than twice as much as those worn by Hi Martin’s players.

“How did they get such uniforms?” That was the question that passed from lip to lip.

The answer was very simple, though as yet none of the onlookers knew what it was.

Not until one minute past four did the Central Grammar players know anything about the uniforms.  Old Dut had dismissed the rest of the school, detaining Dick’s players.

“Young men, we shall now hasten up to Exhibition Hall,” announced the principal.  He marched them up there, where they found the smiling Mr. Brown, backed by an assistant.  Several boxes, opened, lay upon the floor.

“Now, young men,” called Mr. Brown jovially, “let us see how quickly you can take your baseball uniforms and get into them.”

“But what-----” began Dick, then paused in absolute bewilderment.

“It’s all right,” Mr. Brown cheerily assured the dazed boys.  “The uniforms are all paid for—–­won’t cost you a cent.”

“But you—–­you told us,” protested Captain Dick Prescott, “that you were collecting measurements of members of schoolboys’ baseball clubs.”