e seen
skimming over the great expanse of Constance, something that had not
been known in half a generation.

The backward boys of Chester began to talk as though big notions might
be gripping them. If other towns no larger than the one in which they
lived had gymnasiums, and regularly organized field clubs, with splendid
grounds for athletic meets, what was to hinder them from doing the same?

So in due time a new baseball team was organized, consisting not only of
those who attended Chester High, but several fellows who worked in the
factories, but had Saturday afternoons off. They had practiced
strenuously, and under a coach who had been quite a famous player in one
of the big leagues, until a broken leg put him out of business; Joe
Hooker was now working in one of the factories, though just as keen at
sports as ever.

When, earlier in the season, Chester actually walked away with two games
in succession from the pretty strong team at Marshall, the good people
awakened to the fact that a revolution had indeed taken place in the
boys of the town. A new spirit and ambition pervaded every heart. Doing
things worth while is the best way to arouse a boy to a consciousness
that he has a fighting chance.

From what passed between Toby and Steve as they waited for their chum to
join them, it can be seen that great things were hanging in the balance
those days. In about forty-eight hours Harmony would be swarming into
the town riding in all manner of conveyances, shouting and showing every
confidence in the ability of their great team to take that deciding
game.

There was good need of anxiety in the Chester camp. Not once had Harmony
gone down to defeat all season until that unlucky day when, scorning the
humble newly organized Chester nine, they had come over with a
patched-up team to "go through the motions," as one of them had sadly
confessed while on the way home after losing.

Ten minutes later and Toby gave an exclamation of satisfaction.

"Here comes Jack!" he told his companion, and immediately both glued
their eyes on the clean-limbed and bright-faced young fellow who was
swinging toward them, waving a hand as he caught their signals.

There was nothing remarkable about Jack Winters, save that he seemed a
born athlete, had a cheery, winning way about him, and seemed to have a
magnetism such as all born leaders, from Napoleon down, possess, that
drew others to him, and made them believe in his power for extr