The Basket Counts Read Online Free

piling up outside. They put on their coats and trudged through the snow that was already above their ankles.
    They were almost home when a soft, tender cry broke the night’s stillness.
    “A kitten!” cried Ruth. “The poor little thing! Can you see it, Mel?”
    The faint, ever-so-soft crying came from near a bush in front of a house. Mel plowed through thesnow and saw what looked like a black and white ball almost buried there. He gathered it up and cuddled it against him.
    “You nutty kitten,” he said. “What are you doing out in this crazy weather?”
    “Let me take him!” pleaded Cindy. “Please!”
    “Not now. Wait’ll we get inside,” said Mel.
    As soon as they entered the kitchen of their home where the light shone on them, Cindy exclaimed, “That kitten looks like
     Florie’s! It is! It’s Florie Bennett’s!”
    Mel’s heart sank. Of all the people in Trexton, this kitten would have to belong to Caskie Bennett’s sister.

6
    M el carried the kitten to the Bennetts’ early the next morning. He was wondering what the Bennetts would say. Caskie met him
     at the door.
    “Cindy said this kitten belongs to Florie,” said Mel, holding up the kitten. ’We found it last night huddled in the snow near
     our house.”
    Caskie took the kitten. “Thanks,” he said. “We were wondering where she was. Thanks a lot.”
    “We kept her in the house all night by the stove. Mom fed her milk, too.”
    “That’s good,” said Caskie. “I’ll tell Florie. S’long.”
    “S’long,” said Mel.
    He was relieved and glad he had taken the kitten to the Bennetts’ himself. And glad it was Caskie who had come to the door.

    On the basketball court, though, things hadn’t changed a bit between Caskie and Mel. It was December 6 and the Titans were
     playing the Addison Comets. The Comets, wearing blue suits with crimson stripes, were as flashy as they looked. They led going
     into the second quarter by seven points.
    “Toots Kinney’s scoring most of the points, Coach,” said Caskie Bennett irritably. “He’s running circles around Mel.”
    Mel tried to hide his resentment. Toots was taller and a real fast man with the ball. But he wasn’t running circles around
     anybody. He was taking long shots and making them.
    “Those long sinkers are pretty hard to be stopped by anybody,” said the coach. “We’ll just have to make him hurry up his shots
     if he wants to keep taking those chances and hope that it shakes him up a little. Okay, Mel?”
    Mel nodded. “Okay.”
    He guarded Toots Kinney closer in the second quarter, and Toots didn’t take as many shots. The score at the end of the half
     read 28–21 on the electric scoreboard.
    Pedro Dorigez started the second half in place ofMel. He guarded the hot-handed Comet, but Toots Kinney was too fast for him. Twice in half a minute Toots feinted Pedro out
     of the way and drove in for layups. Then Andy Head, substituting for Stoney at right forward, passed to Pedro. Pedro threw
     to Caskie, only to see the ball intercepted and sunk for another two points. Almost everyone in the gym could hear Caskie’s
     angry shout at Pedro.
    “You crazy spic! Watch where you’re throwing!”
    The words were hardly out of Caskie’s mouth when Pedro Dorigez rushed at him, both fists clenched, jaw squared. He swung at
     Caskie. Caskie took the blow on his right shoulder, staring at the enraged boy as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. Caskie
     swung back, but Pedro’s blows were nearly three to his one.
    Phreeeeet! Phreeeeet!
blasted the whistle. The referee rushed forward and Coach Thorpe jumped up from the bench.
    “Stop it!” he yelled.
    The boys stopped fighting and stood glaring at each other, Pedro much angrier and breathing harder than Caskie. Neither one
     said a word.
    “You’re both out of the game,” said the referee.
    Coach Thorpe took them both by their arms. “Sit down,” he said disgustedly. “Caskie, I’ve warned you.”
    “I didn’t say