Horatio Juggins was an elongated chap whose specialty, besides capturing balloon fliers out in right field with wonderful celerity, consisted in great throwing to the home plate, and also some slugging when at bat.

Thad Stevens was the catcher, and a good one at that, everybody seemed to believe.  He, too, could take his part in a “swat-fest” when a rally was needed to pull the Scranton boys out of a bad hole.  Thad had always been a close chum of the captain of the team, Hugh Morgan.  Together they had passed through quite a number of camp outings, and were said to be like twins, so far as never quarreling went.

This same Hugh was really a clever fellow, well liked by most of the Scranton folks, who admired his high sense of honor.  He was averse to fighting, and had really never been known to indulge in such things, owing to a promise made to his mother, the nature of which the new reader can learn if he wishes, by securing the first volume of this Series.  In so doing he will also learn how on one momentous occasion the peace-loving Hugh was brought face to face with a dilemma as to whether he should hold his hand, and allow a weaker friend to be brutally mauled by the detestable town bully, Nick Lang, or stand up in his defense; also just how he acquitted himself in such an emergency.

First “K.K.” dropped away from the group as he came to the corner that was nearest his home.  Boy-like, he sang out to the rest as he swung aside: 

“I’m as hungry as a bear, fellows, and I happen to know our hired girl’s going to have corned beef and cabbage for noon today.  That’s said to be a plebeian dish, but it always appeals to me more than anything else.”

“Huh! you needn’t boast, K.K.,” said the Juggins boy, “over at our house Thursday is religiously given over to vegetable soup, and I’m good for at least three bowls of it every time.  Then it’s also a baking day, so there’ll be fresh bread rolls, as brown on the outside as nuts in November.  Whew!  I just can’t hold back any longer,” and with that Horatio started on a dog-trot through a short cut-off that would take him to a gate in the back fence of his home grounds.

So presently when Owen and “Just” Smith had also separated themselves from the balance there were only Thad and Hugh remaining; nor did they waste any time in talking, for a high-school boy is generally ferociously hungry by the time two in the afternoon comes around; although at intermission, around eleven in the morning, in Scranton High they were given an opportunity to buy a lunch from the counter where a few substantial things, as well as fresh milk and chocolate, were dispensed by a woman who was under the supervision of the school directors.

“Since our baseball practice is off for today, Thad,” remarked Hugh, as they were about to separate, “suppose you drop over and join me.  I’ve got an errand out a short distance in the country, and we can walk it, as the roads are too muddy and slippery for our wheels.”