he room. I think you can, by this gentle
exercise, work out all the little stiffness that's left there."

"And now for my news," cried Dave, as soon as the medical man
had gone. "Fred Ripley ran into trouble, too."

"Got hurt, you mean?" asked Dick quickly.

"Not quite," went on Darrin, making a face. "When Fred was going
into the house last night he tripped slightly---against a rope
that had been stretched across the garden path between two stakes."

"But Fred wasn't hurt?"

"No; he says he tripped, but he recovered himself."

"I'm afraid you don't believe that, Dave?"

"I ought to, anyway," retorted Darrin dryly. "Fred is showing
the rope."

"A piece of rope is easy enough to get," mused Dick.

"Yep; and a lie is easy enough for some fellows to tell. But
some of the fellows are inclined to believe Rip, so they've started
a yarn that Gardiner High School is up to tricks, and that some
fellows have been sent over in advance to cripple our box men
for to-day."

"That's vile!" flushed Prescott indignantly, as he got up to make
the circuit of the room. "The Gardiner fellows have always been
good, fair sportsmen. They wouldn't be back of any tricks of
that sort."

"Well, Fred has managed to cover himself, anyway," returned Dave
rather disgustedly. "He called his father and mother out to see
the rope before he cut it away from the stakes. Oh, I guess a
good many fellows will believe Ripley's yarn!"

"I'm afraid you don't, Dave;"

"Oh, yes; I'm easy," grinned Darrin.

"Can you see two young ladies, Richard?" asked Mrs. Prescott,
looking into the room.

"Certainly, mother, if I get a chance. My vision is not impaired
in the least," laughed Dick.

Mrs. Prescott stood aside to admit Laura and Belle, then followed
them into the room.

"We came to make sure that Gridley is not to lose its great pitcher
to-day," announced Laura.

"Then your father must have told you that I'd do," cried Dick,
eagerly.

"Father?" pouted Miss Bentley. "You don't know him then. One
can never get a word out of father about any of his patients.
But he said we might call."

The visit of the girls brightened up twenty minutes of the morning.

"Of course," said Laura, as they rose to go, "you mustn't attempt
to pitch if you really can't do it, or if it would hurt you for
future games."

"I'm afraid the coach won't let me pitch, unless your father says
I can," murmured Dick, with a wry face.

Few in Gridley who