ked up to our hidden
strength. And I go further than that. I've played ball for years. I
know the game. I held down left field for two seasons on the greatest
college team ever developed out West. That's new to you. Well, it gives
me license to talk a little. I want to tell you that I can _feel_ what's
in this team. It's like the feeling I have when I'm running against a
fast man in the sprints. From now on we'll be a family of brothers with
one idea. And that'll be to play Place off their feet."

Coach Arthurs sat up as if he had been given the elixir of life.
Likewise the members of the team appeared to be under the spell
of a powerful stimulus. The sprinter's words struck fire from
all present.

Homans' clear gray eyes were like live coals. "Boys! One rousing cheer
for Worry Arthurs and for Wayne!"

Lusty, strained throats let out the cheer with a deafening roar.

It was strange and significant at that moment to see Graves, white-faced
and sullen, come down the stairs and pass through the hall and out of the
door. It was as if discord, selfishness, and wavering passed out with him.
Arthurs and Homans and Ray could not have hoped for a more striking lesson
to the young players.

Dave, the colored waiter, appeared in the doorway of the dining-room.
"Mr. Arthurs, I done call yo' all. Lunch is sho' gittin' cold."

That afternoon Wayne played the strong Hornell University nine.

Blake, new at third base for Wayne, was a revelation. He was all legs
and arms. Weir accepted eight chances. Raymond, sick or not, was all
over the infield, knocking down grounders, backing up every play. To
McCord, balls in the air or at his feet were all the same. Trace caught
a foul fly right off the bleachers. Homans fielded with as much speed
as the old varsity's centre and with better judgment. Besides, he made
four hits and four runs. Reddy Ray drove one ball into the bleachers,
and on a line-drive to left field he circled the bases in time that
Murray said was wonderful. Dean stood up valiantly to his battering,
and for the first game had no passed balls. And Ken Ward whirled
tirelessly in the box, and one after another he shot fast balls over
the plate. He made the Hornell players hit; he had no need to extend
himself to the use of the long swing and whip of his arm that produced
the jump ball; and he shut them out without a run, and gave them only
two safe hits. All through the game Worry Arthurs sat on the bench
without giving a