"Yes."

"Can you throw?"

"Yes." He spoke with quiet assurance.

"Can you run?" almost shouted Worry. He was nervous and irritable
those days, and it annoyed him for unknown youths to speak calmly
of such things.

"Run? Yes, a little. I did the hundred last year in nine and four-fifths."

"What! You can't kid me! Who are you?" cried Worry, getting red in the
face. "I've seen you somewhere."

"My name's Ray."

"Say! Not _Ray_, the intercollegiate champion?"

"I'm the fellow. I talked it over with Murray. He kicked, but I didn't
mind that. I promised to try to keep in shape to win the sprints at the
intercollegiate meet."

"Say! Get out there in left field! Quick!" shouted Worry.... "Peg, hit
him some flies. Lam 'em a mile! That fellow's a sprinter, Peg. What luck
it would be if he can play ball! Hit 'em at him!"

Ken took the ball Worry tossed him, and, picking up a bat, began to
knock flies out to Ray. The first few he made easy for the outfielder,
and then he hit balls harder and off to the right or left. Without
appearing to exert himself Ray got under them. Ken watched him, and
also kept the tail of his eye on Worry. The coach appeared to be
getting excited, and he ordered Ken to hit the balls high and far
away. Ken complied, but he could not hit a ball over Ray's head. He
tried with all his strength. He had never seen a champion sprinter,
and now he marvelled at the wonderful stride.

"Oh! but his running is beautiful!" exclaimed Ken.

"That's enough! Come in here!" yelled Worry to Ray.... "Peg, he makes
Dreer look slow. I never saw as fast fieldin' as that."

When Ray came trotting in without seeming to be even warmed up, Worry
blurted out: "You ain't winded--after all that? Must be in shape?"

"I'm always in shape," replied Ray.

"Pick up a bat!" shouted Worry. "Here, Duncan, pitch this fellow a few.
Speed 'em, curve 'em, strike him out, hit him--anything!"

Ray was left-handed, and he stood up to the plate perfectly erect,
with his bat resting quietly on his shoulder. He stepped straight,
swung with an even, powerful swing, and he hit the first ball clear
over the right-field bleachers. It greatly distanced Dreer's hit.

"What a drive!" gasped Ken.

"Oh!" choked Worry. "That's enough! You needn't lose my balls. Bunt one,
now."

Ray took the same position, and as the ball came up he appeared to drop
the bat upon it and dart away at the same instant.

Worry seemed to be trying to contr