clipsed in appearance by the despised Central Grammars.

Not less astonished were the Central Grammar boy spectators themselves.
Not one, outside of the baseball squad, had known that any uniforms
were to be worn on the field.

"Huh!" remarked Ted Teall, captain of the South Grammars, to one
of his lieutenants. "We are the only school nine in town now
without a uniform. When we get on the field to play we'll look
like a lot of rag-pickers, won't we?"

"I know where they got 'em," choked Hi at last. "Their principal,
Old Dut Jones, wouldn't see his boys look too badly compared with
us, so he bought 'em as good uniforms as he could afford. It's
a shame. That's what it is."

If Captain Dick and his baseball players walked rather proudly
onto the field, it may have been partly due to the fact that they
now knew that their uniforms were anything but "cheap." In point
of fact, their uniforms had cost more than twice as much as those
worn by Hi Martin's players.

"How did they get such uniforms?" That was the question that
passed from lip to lip.

The answer was very simple, though as yet none of the onlookers
knew what it was.

Not until one minute past four did the Central Grammar players
know anything about the uniforms. Old Dut had dismissed the rest
of the school, detaining Dick's players.

"Young men, we shall now hasten up to Exhibition Hall," announced
the principal. He marched them up there, where they found the
smiling Mr. Brown, backed by an assistant. Several boxes, opened,
lay upon the floor.

"Now, young men," called Mr. Brown jovially, "let us see how quickly
you can take your baseball uniforms and get into them."

"But what-----" began Dick, then paused in absolute bewilderment.

"It's all right," Mr. Brown cheerily assured the dazed boys.
"The uniforms are all paid for---won't cost you a cent."

"But you---you told us," protested Captain Dick Prescott, "that
you were collecting measurements of members of schoolboys' baseball
clubs."

"Well, that's the truth," protested Brown, with a mock air of
injured innocence. "I'm a traveling salesman for the Haynes Sporting
Goods Company, one of the biggest baseball outfitting companies
in this part of the country. It's my business to travel and take
orders."

"But we didn't give you any orders," gasped Dave.

"Some one did," laughed Mr. Brown.

"Who did?" blurted Tom Reade.

"Did you, Mr. Jones?" cried Dick.

"Not I," laughed the principal. "But