ttle shock of pain, he dismissed that dream
girl from his mind, and determined to meet Miss Huling half way in her
game. He could not flirt as well as he could pitch; still, he was no
novice.

"Well, Miss Huling, my word certainly is not involved. But as to
pitching for Salisbury--that depends."

"Upon what?"

"Upon what there is in it."

"Mr. Wayne, you mean--money? Oh, I know. My brother Rex told me how
you college men are paid big sums. Our association will not give a
dollar, and, besides, my brother knows nothing of this. But we girls
are heart and soul on winning this game. We'll----"

"Miss Huling, I didn't mean remuneration in sordid cash," interrupted
Wayne, in a tone that heightened the color in her cheeks.

Wayne eyed her keenly with mingled emotions. Was that rose-leaf flush
in her cheeks natural? Some girls could blush at will. Were the
wistful eyes, the earnest lips, only shamming? It cost him some
bitterness to decide that they were. Her beauty fascinated, while it
hardened him. Eternally, the beauty of women meant the undoing of men,
whether they played the simple, inconsequential game of baseball, or
the great, absorbing, mutable game of life.

The shame of the situation for him was increasingly annoying, inasmuch
as this lovely girl should stoop to flirtation with a stranger, and the
same time draw him, allure him, despite the apparent insincerity.

"Miss Huling, I'll pitch your game for two things," he continued.

"Name them."

"Wear Yale blue in place of that orange-and-black Princeton pin."

"I will." She said it with a shyness, a look in her eyes that made
Wayne wince. What a perfect little actress! But there seemed just a
chance that this was not deceit. For an instant he wavered, held back
by subtle, finer intuition; then he beat down the mounting influence of
truth in those dark-blue eyes, and spoke deliberately:

"The other thing is--if I win the game--a kiss."

Dorothy Huling's face flamed scarlet. But this did not affect Wayne so
deeply, though it showed him his mistake, as the darkening shadow of
disappointment in her eyes. If she had been a flirt, she would have
been prepared for rudeness. He began casting about in his mind for
some apology, some mitigation of his offense; but as he was about to
speak, the sudden fading of her color, leaving her pale, and the look
in her proud, dark eyes disconcerted him out of utterance.

"Certainly, Mr. Wayne. I agree to yo