ville
down last Saturday, it would look bad for Scranton to be snowed
under by an outside nine without any reputation, as they have hardly
played together this season so far."

"Oh! I haven't forgotten my promise to Mr. Saunders and you, Hugh,"
protested the reliable backstop of the high-school team "I'm too fond
of baseball to neglect any chance for playing. But we'll try and put
this other affair over in the A.M., and that'll leave us free to
play ball after lunch. I wonder how far away our friend, Brother
Lu, will be this time tomorrow?"

"Perhaps many miles," suggested Hugh, "and then again he may be taking
things as easy as ever over there at Sister Matilda's cottage. It's
going to be a toss-up whether our game works as we hope, or falls
flat to the ground."

CHAPTER X

HOW JIM PETTIGREW FIXED IT

When Saturday morning came, the two chums of Scranton High met as per
arrangement, and as Thad expressed it, made a "bee-line" downtown.
They were fairly wild to get bold of the first copy of the _Weekly
Courier_ that was placed on sale.

As a rule, it was delivered to the several newsstands, and at the
railroad station, around eight o'clock. Then the "printer's devil,"
who was also the carrier, delivering copies to most of the town
folks who subscribed in that fashion, would start out with a first
bundle in his bag, taking his time about leaving the same at different
doors. Perhaps nowadays, however, when there was likely to be a
baseball game in the afternoon to enliven things, the said boy might
quicken his pace a bit, so as to get through, and have a chance to
witness the struggle.

They were just in time to see a package delivered at the main news
store, where sporting goods could also be purchased. Paul Kramer's
was a place most beloved among the boys of Scranton, for the small
store held almost everything that was apt to appeal to the heart of
the average youth. Besides, all baseball, and in due season, football
paraphernalia, as well as hockey sticks, and shin guards, the old
storekeeper always carried a well-chosen stock of juvenile fiction
in cloth; and those fellows who were fond of spending their spare
hours in reading the works of old favorites like Optic and Alger,
as well as numerous more recent additions to the ranks of authors,
were to be found poring over the contents of numerous book shelves
and racks, deciding which volume they would squander their latest
quarter for.

Then