previous having left the college.  Bob Grimes, who played at shortstop, was the captain, and after a good many tryouts, he had put Spud Jackson in as catcher.  For pitcher, there were three candidates:  a lad named Bill Harney, who was a tall junior; a much smaller chap who had come from Yale, named Dare Phelps; and Tom, who had been pushed forward by a number of his friends.  Tom had thought to pay strict attention to his studies for the remainder of the term, but finally agreed to accept the position if it was offered to him.

“I think you are going to make it, Tom,” said Songbird one day after Tom had been pitching on the regular team against Bill Harney, who had been pitching on the scrub.  Tom had managed to hold the scrub down to three hits, while Harney had allowed fourteen hits, one of which had been turned by the batter into a home run.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” replied Tom.  “Harney isn’t so bad.  He had a little ill luck to-day, that’s all.  And then, don’t forget Phelps.”

“I’m not forgetting either of them.  Just the same, I think you are going to make the nine.”

The next day, Tom was put in as pitcher on the scrub, while Dare Phelps occupied the box for the regular nine.  For the first six innings, it was a nip-and-tuck battle between the two pitchers.  But from that time on, Dare Phelps seemed to go to pieces, while Tom struck out man after man.  As a result, the score at the end of the game stood 4 to 10 in favor of the scrub.

“Tom, I think that settles it!” cried his brother, as he rushed up and took the other by the shoulder.  “You certainly held them down in great shape.”

“And say, didn’t the scrub bang Phelps all over the diamond!” broke in another student.  “My, he must feel pretty sore!” And evidently this was true, because a minute later Dare Phelps left the diamond and disappeared from view.  Nearly everybody in the college had watched the games between the scrub and the regular nine; and that night the concensus of opinion seemed to be that Tom ought to pitch for the regular team.

“You’ll have to do it, Tom,” said Bob Grimes, when he called on the older Rover in the morning.  “Phelps acknowledges that you are a better pitcher than he is, and I think Bill Harney will have to do the same.”

“Better wait and see how I pitch in one of the regular games,” returned Tom, modestly.  “For all you know, I may go to pieces.”

“Nonsense, Tom!  I know you too well for that,” and Bob grinned broadly.  “We’ll show Roxley College this year what we can do.”

Every year there were two contests between Brill and Roxley, a rival college located some miles away.  One contest was at baseball, and the other football.  During the past Fall, Roxley had suffered its second defeat on the gridiron at the hands of Brill.  But the Spring previous, its baseball nine had literally “wiped up the diamond” with Brill by a score of 6 to 0.  My, readers can, therefore, well imagine how anxious the baseball management was to win the game scheduled to come off in about a week.