of athletics when I was
at college, but I appreciate the modern tendency more than do
some men of my age."

Fred, though not interested in his father's praise of athletics
waited patiently until his parent had finished.

"I'm pretty sure, Dad, I can make the chance of being the star
pitcher on the school team for this coming season, if only you'll
back me up in it."

"Why, as far as that goes," replied Lawyer Ripley, "I believe
that about all the benefits of school athletics can be gained
by one who isn't necessarily right at the top of the crowd."

"But not to go to the top of the crowd, and not to try too, Dad,
is contrary to the spirit of athletics," argued Fred, rather cleverly.
"Besides, one of the best things about athletics, I think, is
the spirit to fight for leadership. That's a useful
lesson---leadership---to carry out into life, isn't it, sir?"

"Yes, it is; you're right about that, son," nodded the lawyer.

"Well, sir, Everett, one of the crack pitchers of national fame,
is over in Duxbridge for the winter. He doesn't go south with
his team for practice until the middle or latter part of February.
Duxbridge is only twelve miles from here. He could come over
here, or you could let your man take me over to Duxbridge in your
auto. Dad, I want to be the pitcher of the crack battery in the
school nine. Will you engage Everett, or let me hire him, to
train me right from the start in all the best styles of pitching?"

"How much would it cost?" asked the lawyer, cautiously.

"I don't know exactly, sir. A few hundred dollars, probably."

Fred's face was glowing with eagerness. His mother, who was standing
just behind him, nodded encouragingly at her husband.

"Well, yes, Fred, if you're sure you can make yourself the star
pitcher of the school nine, I will."

"When may I go to see Everett, sir?" asked Fred, making no effort
to conceal the great joy this promise had given him.

"Since you're to be engaged for this afternoon, Fred, we'll make
it to-morrow. I'll order out the car and go over to Duxbridge
with you.".

It was in the happiest possible frame of mind, for him, that Fred
Ripley went back to the High School that afternoon. He didn't
arrive until five minutes before the hour for calling the meeting;
he didn't care to be of the common crowd that would be on hand
at or soon after two-thirty.

When he entered, he found a goodly and noisy crowd of some eighty
High School boys of the thr