traveled to the hitting point, dropped nearly twenty inches.
The bat fanned air, and the catcher, crouching just behind the
coach, gathered in the ball.

Luce was anything but mortified. A gleam of exultation lit up
his eyes as he swung the bat exultantly over his head. In a swift
outburst of old college enthusiasm he forgot most of his dignity
as a submaster.

"_Wow_!" yelled the coach. "That was a _bird_! A lulu-cooler
and a scalp-taker! Ripley, I reckon you're the new cop that runs
the beat!"

It took the High School onlookers a few seconds to gather the
full importance of what they had seen. Then a wild cheer broke
loose:

"Ripley? Oh, Ripley'll pitch for the nine!" surged up on all
sides.

CHAPTER X

DICK & CO. TAKE A TURN AT FEELING GLUM

"What's the matter with Ripley?" yelled one senior.

And another answered, hoarsely:

"Nothing! He's a wonder!"

Fred Ripley was unpopular. He was regarded as a cad and a sneak.
But he could pitch ball! He could give great aid in bringing
an unbroken line of victories to Gridley. That was enough.

By now Coach Luce was a bit red in the face. He realized that
his momentary relapse into the old college enthusiasm had made
him look ridiculous, in his other guise of High School submaster.

But when the submaster coach turned and saw Parkinson butting
his head against the punching bag he called out:

"What's the matter, Parkinson?"

"Subbing for you, sir!"

That turned the good-natured laugh of a few on Mr. Luce. Most
of those present, however, had not been struck by the unusualness
of his speech.

Dick and Dave looked hard at each other. Both boys wanted to
make the team as pitchers. Yet now it seemed most certain that
Fred Ripley must stand out head and shoulders over any other
candidates for the Gridley box.

Dick's face shone with enthusiasm, none the less. If he couldn't
make the nine this year, he could at least feel that Gridley High
School was already well on toward the lead over all competing
school nines.

"I wish it were somebody else," muttered Dave, huskily, in his
chum's ear.

"Gridley is fixed for lead, anyway," replied Dick, "if Ripley
can always keep in such form as that."

"Can Ripley do it again?" shouted one Gridley senior.

"Try it, and see, Ripley," urged Mr. Luce, again swinging his
bat.

Fred had been holding the returned ball for a minute or two.
His face was flushed, his eyes glowing. Never before h