red upon lightly or unadvisedly, like certain other important
epochs in life.

At last the procession arrived at the athletic field and there broke up
for the baseball game with the sophomores. The grand stand was already
filled with the people and students that had watched the march, and, as
soon as Will and Foster had donned their baseball suits, for both had
been selected to play on the freshman nine, they appeared upon the
field, where already the other members of the team were awaiting their
coming.

"I didn't see Peter John, did you, Foster?" inquired Will.

"No. It'll be all the worse for him, I fancy."

"No doubt about that. What are we going to do with him, Foster?"

"Nothing."

"I don't like to see the chap suffer for his own foolishness."

"Neither do I. But he'll have to learn for himself. You can't tell him
anything."

"You can _tell_ him all right enough, but I'm afraid that's all the good
it does. You might as well try to polish sponge."

The conversation ceased as the call for the game to be begun was heard
and both boys hastened to take the positions in which they were to play.
The noise among the spectators increased as the signal was given, but
for three innings both nines played earnestly and seriously. At the end
of the third inning, with the score standing five to four in favor of
the sophomores, a radical change was made. The batter was blindfolded
and compelled to stand upon an upturned barrel, which was substituted
for the home plate. The pitcher and catcher were each also to stand upon
a barrel and the pitcher was ordered to throw the ball with his left
hand. Naturally it was impossible for the batter to hit the ball, since
he was blindfolded, and when three strikes had been called he tore the
bandage from his eyes and upon his hands and knees was compelled to
crawl toward first base. The baseman stood with his back to the field
and naturally found it difficult to secure the ball which had been
thrown by the left hand of the catcher. Shrieks of laughter arose from
the spectators, shouts and class cries were heard on every side, tin
horns mingled their noise with the blasts of the band, and altogether
Will Phelps thought that the scene was unique in the experiences of his
young life.

CHAPTER IX

THE WALK WITH MOTT

In the days that immediately followed the freshman parade and the
burlesque game of baseball with the rival class, the work before Will
Phelps and his room-ma