Too Hot to Handle Read Online Free PDF Page A

pleasant grin on his face.
    “Well, brother, how did you make out today?”
    “We won,” said David. “Four to two.”
    “Fine. Get any ground balls in that hot corner?”
    David shrugged. “Well, I only played the last two innings. I caught a pop fly. And I made an error.”
    “It was a drag bunt,” explained Dad. “David had to run in fast for it. He fumbled the ball.”
    “He threw to first and nearly got the runner, too,” added Ann Marie.
    Don smiled. “Drag bunts are tough. All kinds of bunts are tough to field. That’s why I play short.” He laughed and punched
     David playfully on the chest. “Keep working hard, kid. You’ll have to take over now, you know. I can’t play anymore. At least
     not anymore this year. It’s up to you to keep the name of Kroft going.”
    David stared at Don. His heart began to pound, and he took his eyes away from Don’s.
    He felt Dad’s hand on his shoulder and heard him chuckle.
    “Don’t worry about it, David. No one is going to really care how well you play. When you’re on the ball field do the best
     you can. That’s all anyone expects of you. Isn’t that right, Don?”
    “Right,” said Don.
    But that wasn’t so. And David knew it.
    He
had
to play better. Much better than he was playing now.

7
    R IGHT after lunch on Saturday afternoon, David and Bonesy walked to the library. They went by where the old wooden bridge had
     been. No start had been made yet in replacing it. There was a sign: DANGER.
    The boys walked down a path that ran parallel with the creek. They crossed the bridge at the street. It was the only way now
     to reach the library from where David lived.
    David talked to Ms. Benson. He said he’d like to take a few books to Don in the hospital. Was it okay?
    It was indeed okay, she said.
    “Don and I . . . we’ll pay for those books we lost,” said David.
    Ms. Benson smiled. “I told you not to worry, David. The library board knows about it. They’re going to talk with the city
     officials to see if they can use some special funds to replace the books. How is Don?”
    “He’s coming along fine,” said David.
    Someone stepped up to the desk beside David. “Why, David Kroft! How are you? And how is your eye?”
    David turned. There stood Mrs. Gertrude Finch, smiling at him as if she had succeeded in getting rid of all the sports activities
     in Penwood.
    “I’m fine, thanks,” said David. “And so’s my eye.”
    Mrs. Finch looked at the eye closely. “Just a little coloring left. But it’s pretty. By the way, what are you two boys doing
     this afternoon?”
    David looked at her. “Nothing,” he said.
    “We have a ball game at four o’clock,” reminded Bonesy. “That postponed game with the Waxwings.”
    “Well, I have a job to be done at our cottage,” said Mrs. Finch. “Mr. Finch is working and can’t be there. I’m going over
     now to clean inside the cottage. But I need help to clean up the yard. I could use two volunteers. They’ll get paid, of course.”
    David looked at Bonesy, and Bonesy looked at David. Then David looked at Mrs. Finch.
    “Can you get us back in time for the game?”
    “Of course.”
    “We’ll go,” he said.
    “Fine!” Her eyes blinked happily. “Better call your mothers. Tell them where you’re going.”
    David told Ms. Benson he’d pick up the books later. Then the boys called up their mothers. In no time they were piled into
     Mrs. Finch’s car, driving out of the parking lot and up the street.
    Mrs. Finch’s cottage was about six miles from Penwood. To get to it Mrs. Finch had to cut off from the main highway onto a
     narrow dirt road. The recent rain had left it filled with ruts. The ditches on either side were deep and dangerous. The hill
     was steep, and Mrs. Finch was forced to drive very slowly and carefully.
    At last they reached the cottage. Immediately David and Bonesy saw what Mrs. Finch had meant. The yard was covered with dried
     leaves and broken, dried-up twigs. The