“Yes, it’s all to the merry,” put in Stanley, who had come up with Bob.  “But tell us privately, William, are you going to depend on a straight ball and speed, or are you going to give them some curves and fadeaways?”

“Now, see here!” spluttered the dudish student.  “I am not a baseball pitcher, and I want. you to——­”

“Oh, William, don’t try that game on us! ’” burst out Stanley.  “We know that you have been practicing pitching for the past two months; that you took lessons from one of the greatest ball twirlers in the Western League.  Of course, we understand that you wanted to surprise us; and I must confess, it is a surprise.”

“But a mighty agreeable one,” came from Spud, who had joined the crowd, while Tom hovered behind William Philander, grinning broadly over what was taking place.  “Brill has wanted a really great pitcher for years.  Of course, we have won some victories with ordinary pitchers, but the moment I heard that you had taken to twirling the sphere, I said to all my friends; ’This is the year that Brill is going to come out on top.’  My dear Tubbs, I think we ought to get down on our knees, and thank you for doing this much for our college.  I am sure the board of directors, when they hear of this, will certainly give you a vote of thanks, because success in baseball and other athletic sports is what makes a college in these days.  And you are taking up the sport in such a thoroughly systematic manner

“Oh, my dear fellow!” pleaded William Philander, frantically.  “This is all some dreadful mistake, don’t you know.  How it came about, I can’t imagine, but I haven’t——­”

“It’s no use, fellows.  He simply won’t acknowledge it yet,” broke in another student.

“We’ll have to wait until he comes out on the diamond in his new uniform,” added still another.

“Anyway, William, you might tell us whether you are going to use a straight ball or a curve and the fadeaway,” pleaded Stanley.

“He is going to keep that a secret, so as to fool our opponents,” broke in Tom.  “And he’ll fool them all right enough, you can depend on W. P. Tubbs every time.”

“Three cheers for W. P.!” cried Spud.  “Now, then, boys, altogether:  W. P., the champion pitcher of Brill College!”

A cheer and a yell rent the air, and brought a great number of other students to that part of the campus.  In a twinkling, William Philander was completely surrounded.

“What’s it all about?”

“Is it a fight?”

“Who are they cheering?”

“It’s all about Mr. W. P. Tubbs, Esq.,” cried Tom, loudly.  “Our new, double back-action, warranted, baseball twirler; the man who is going to shoot ’em over the plate in such a marvelous fashion that our rivals will go down and out in one, two, three order.”

At his announcement, a great hubbub arose on all sides.

“Tubbs! is he a baseball pitcher?”

“I didn’t know he knew a thing about baseball.”