Dan, loudly and promptly.

"Darrin?"

"Pitcher," responded Dave.

There was a little ripple of surprise. When a sophomore goes
in for work in the box it is notice that he has a good opinion
of his abilities.

A few more names were called off. Then:

"Hazelton?"

"Short stop," replied Harry, coolly.

"Whew!" An audible gasp of surprise went up and traveled around.

After the battery, the post of short stop is the swiftest thing
for which to reach out.

"Holmes?"

"Left field."

"It's plain enough," sneered Fred Ripley to the fellow beside
him, "that Dick & Co., reporters and raga-muffins, expect to be
two thirds of the nine. I wonder whom they'll allow to hold the
other three positions?"

Several more names were called off. Then came:

"Prescott?"

"Pitcher," Dick answered, quietly.

A thrill of delight went through Fred. This was more luck than
he had hoped for. What great delight there was going to be in
beating out Dick Prescott!

"Reade?"

"Second base."

"Ripley?"

"P-p-pitcher!" Fred fairly stuttered in his eagerness to get the
word out emphatically. In fact, the word left him so explosively
that several of the fellows caught themselves laughing.

"Oh, laugh, then, hang you all!" muttered Fred, in a low voice,
glaring all around him. "But you don't know what you're laughing
at. Maybe I won't show you something in the way of real pitching!"

"The first Tuesday after the holidays' vacation the squad will
report here for gymnastic work from three-thirty to five," called
the coach. "Now, I'll talk informally with any who wish to ask
questions."

Fred Ripley's face was aglow with satisfaction. His eyes fairly
glistened with his secret, inward triumph.

"So you think you can pitch, Prescott?" he muttered to himself.
"Humph! With the great Everett training me for weeks, I'll
make you look like a pewter monkey, Dick Prescott."

CHAPTER VII

DAVE TALKS WITH ONE HAND

The next afternoon Fred and his father went over to Duxbridge.

They found the great Everett at home, and not only at home, but
willing to take up with their proposal.

The celebrated professional pitcher named a price that caused
Lawyer Ripley to hesitate for a few moments. Then catching the
appealing look in his son's face, the elder Ripley agreed to the
terms. The training was to be given at Duxbridge, in Everett's
big and almost empty barn.

That night Lawyer Ripley, a man of prompt habit in