e anything like
this," Laura told herself, rather regretfully. "I'm sure they've
pledged their pocket money for weeks on this."

When Belle called, it developed that she had received an identical
gift.

"It's lovely of the boys," Belle admitted. "But it's foolish,
too, for they've had to use their pocket money away ahead, I'm
certain."

Dick and Dave had sent their gifts, as had the girls, in both
names.

Christmas was a day of rejoicing among all of the High School
students except the least-favored ones.

Fred Ripley, however, spent his Christmas day in a way differing
from the enjoyments of any of the others. A new fever of energy
had seized the young man. In his fierce determination to carry
away the star pitchership, especially from Dick Prescott, Ripley
employed even Christmas afternoon by going over to Duxbridge
and taking another lesson in pitching from the great Everett.

CHAPTER IX

FRED PITCHES A BOMBSHELL INTO TRAINING CAMP

"One, two, three, four! One, two, three, four!

"Halt! Rest!"

"Attention! Overhead to front and back. Commence! One, two,
three, four!"

Coach Luce's voice rang out in a solid, carrying tone of military
command.

The baseball squad was hard at work in the gymnasium, perspiring
even though the gym. was not heated above fifty degrees.

Dumb-bell drill was going off with great snap. It was followed
by work with the Indian clubs. Then, after a brief rest, the
entire squad took to the track in the gallery. For ten minutes
the High School young men jogged around the track. Any fellow
in the lot would have been ashamed to drop out, short of breath.

As a matter of fact, no one was out of breath. Mr. Luce was what
the boys called a "griller," and he certainly knew all about whipping
a lot of youngsters into fine physical shape.

This training work was now along in the third week of the new
winter term.

Three times weekly the squad had been assembled. On other days
of the week, the young men were pledged to outside running, when
the roads permitted, and to certain indoor work at other times.

Every member of the big squad now began to feel "hard as nails."
Slight defects in breathing had been corrected; lung-power had
been developed, and backs that ached at first, from the work,
had now grown too well seasoned to ache. Every member of the
squad was conscious of a new, growing muscular power. Hard, bumpy
muscles were not being cultivated. The lo