happen. I knew the time would come when you'd be
mighty sore with yourself. I'm going to talk plain to you. This
fellow Grant is practically an outsider; he doesn't belong in Oakdale.
He's a presuming cub, too--always pushing himself forward. Here I am,
an Oakdale boy, but you pick up with Rod Grant and coach him to pitch
so he can step into a game when you're batted out and show you up. You
won't be in it hereafter; he'll be the whole show."

"Oh, I don't know," returned Springer sourly. "He may get his some
time."

"He may, and then again he may not; you can't be sure of it. If you'd
only spent your time with me, I would have been willing to act as
second string pitcher, and you would not have been crowded out. You
put your foot in it, all right, old man."

"I suppose I did. But let's not talk about it. You weren't at school
to-day."

"No."

"How did that happen?"

"Working."

"Working? How careless! I didn't know you ever did such a thing."

"Well," said Roy slowly, "this was a case of necessity, you see."

"Oh, you needed the money, eh?"

"No; it wasn't that, though I earned a dollar and a quarter helping
shingle John Holbrook's barn. You see--my mother, she--she lost some
money recently."

"Lost it?"

"Yes; lost it, or--or something," Roy replied stumblingly. "It wasn't
much, but it was all she had. She'd saved up a little at a time to buy
material for a new dress."

"How did she happen to lul-lose it?"

"I can't tell. She doesn't quite know herself. She put it in a drawer
in the house, and when she went to look for it, it was gone."

"That sounds like a robbery instead of a loss."

"But it couldn't be a robbery," protested Hooker quickly and earnestly.
"Nobody would come into the house and take money out of that
drawer--nobody around here. You never hear of such a thing happening
around this town. Perhaps mother mislaid it somewhere. Anyhow, it's
gone, and I'm going to try to earn enough to replace it."

"Well, say, Hooker," exclaimed Phil, "you're all right! I didn't
suppose you'd stoop to work, even under such circumstances. Do you
know, lots of times we're liable to misjudge some one until something
happens to show us just the sort of a person he is."

"Yes; I suppose that's right," said Roy. But he did not look Phil in
the eyes.

CHAPTER XV.

PLAIN TALK FROM ELIOT.

"How's your cold, Phil?"

It was Eliot who asked the question, and Springer, pausing w