t account I hope you won't expect too much from me; and give me three
chances to make a bull's-eye."

"Sure we will, Fred!" exclaimed Bristles.

"Take six if you want to," added the generous Colon, who was a very
long-legged fellow, a magnificent sprinter, with a peculiar habit of
leaping as he ran, that often reminded people of the ungainly jumps of a
kangaroo. But he nearly always "got there with the goods."

"No, three ought to be plenty!" declared Fred, as he prepared to send his
first one in.

It struck just below the edge of the opening, being really a better shot
than any of the scores that had marked the tree-trunk up to that time.
The rest of the half dozen boys gave a shout.

"Clipped the edge of the plate that time, Fred!" cried Bristles, whose
real name was Andy Carpenter.

"Two inches higher, and it would have gone straight in. Now you've found
the rubber, strike him out, Fred. You can do it! I ought to know,
because haven't I been your backstop many a time, and watched them spin
straight across?" and Sid Wells handed his chum a ball he had squeezed
into a shape that was as nearly round as anything could be, and also as
hard as ice.

Bristles, too, presented his contribution, so that the candidate for
honors stood there with a missile in each hand. He looked carefully at
the trees as though measuring the distance and height with that practiced
eye of his. Then they saw him draw back his arm after the same manner in
which he delivered the ball during an exciting part of a hotly contested
game of ball.

The shot went true to the mark, and as they saw it vanish in the cavity,
a shout arose from the five boys. This burst out in redoubled violence
when, as quick as a flash, Fred sent the second snowball exactly after
the first, so that it too went straight into the dark hole.

While they continue to express their delight, by shouts, and slapping
Fred on the back, perhaps it might be well to say a few words concerning
Fred Fenton and his friends.

They were all Riverport boys, and attended the high school there. Fred
and two of the others were taking a post graduate course, meaning to
enter college during the following season.

In the pages of the first volume of this series, entitled "_Fred Fenton,
the Pitcher_," we had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of most of
the boys who were to play prominent parts in the events taking place
along the banks of the Mohunk River, where two other