layed on any but boy teams. But suddenly
he remembered that during a visit to the mountains with his mother he
had gone to a place called Eagle's Nest, a summer hotel colony. It
boasted of a good ball team and had a rival in the Glenwoods, a team
from an adjoining resort. Ken had been in the habit of chasing flies
for the players in practice. One day Eagle's Nest journeyed over to
Glenwood to play, and being short one player they took Ken to fill in.
He had scarcely started in the game when the regular player appeared,
thus relieving him. The incident had completely slipped Ken's mind
until recalled by the newspaper note.

Whereupon Ken began to ponder. He scouted the idea of that innocent
little thing endangering his eligibility at Wayne. But the rule,
thus made clear, stood out in startlingly black-and-white relief.
Eagle's Nest supported a team by subscription among the hotel guests.
Ken had ridden ten miles in a 'bus with the team, and had worn one
of the uniforms for some few minutes. Therefore, upon a technicality,
perhaps, he had been _on_ a summer nine, and had no right to play for
Wayne.

Ken went to Homans and told him the circumstance. The captain looked
exceedingly grave, then getting more particulars he relaxed.

"You're safe, Peg. You're perfectly innocent. But don't mention it to
any one else, especially Worry. He'd have a fit. What a scare you'd
throw into the varsity camp! Forget the few minutes you wore that
Eagle's Nest suit."

For the time being this reassured Ken, but after a while his anxiety
returned. Homans had said not to mention it, and that bothered Ken.
He lay awake half of one night thinking about the thing. It angered
him and pricked his conscience and roused him. He wanted to feel
absolutely sure of his position, for his own sake first of all.
So next morning he cornered Worry and blurted out the secret.

"Peg, what're you givin' me!" he ejaculated.

Ken repeated his story, somewhat more clearly and at greater length.
Worry turned as white as a ghost.

"Good gracious, Peg, you haven't told anybody?"

"No one but Homans."

Worry gave a long sigh of relief, and his face regained some of its
usual florid color.

"Well, that's all right then.... Say, didn't I tell you once that I
had a weak heart? Peg, of course you're an amateur, or there never was
one. But 'em fat-head directors! Why, I wouldn't have 'em find that
out for a million dollars. They're idiots enough to make a shinin