tation for sternness
that Uncle Aaron had given him.

Andy slunk away white and shaken, and the next morning the whole school
was surprised to learn that he had gone for good.

"Humph!" exclaimed Fred, when he heard the news, "I wish he'd waited
just one day more. Now, I suppose we've seen the last of him."

But Fred was mistaken. He had not yet seen the last of Andy Shanks.

CHAPTER XXVII

THE BASEBALL TEAM

The rest of the winter passed rapidly, and Fred, with the load off his
mind, pitched into all the winter sports, making up royally for all he
had missed in the dark days when he was under suspicion.

He and Teddy had gone home for the Christmas holidays, taking with them
Bill Garwood and Lester Lee, to whom they had become warmly attached.
Mr. and Mrs. Rushton had outdone themselves to give them a good time,
and Martha, her black face shining, had made the table fairly groan with
the good things she heaped upon it for her "lambs" and their friends.

The days had slipped away like magic. The visitors had had the time of
their lives, and both Bill and Lester had insisted that the boys should
come to see them in the summer vacation. They had a partial promise to
this effect, but the matter was left for final decision later on.

Uncle Aaron had not been in Oldtown at the time, for which the boys were
profoundly thankful. They could easily do without him any time, but now,
with the watch and papers still missing, they cared less than ever to
see him.

Nothing had been heard of the stolen watch, nor had the papers turned
up, and every day that passed made it less likely that they ever would.

"Those papers!" sighed Teddy. "And that watch! Oh, if I'd only nabbed
that tramp when I saw him!"

"Cheer up, old scout," said Bill. "While there's life, there's hope."

"Yes," agreed Fred, "but there isn't much nourishment in hope."

The Rushton boys returned to Rally Hall, refreshed and rested, ready for
hard work as well as for fun and frolic. The going of Andy Shanks had
removed a disturbing element from the school, and the second term was
much more pleasant than the first had been.

And now, they were right on the verge of spring. The ice had
disappeared, the athletic field was drying out and getting into shape,
and the thoughts of all were turning toward baseball practice.

Slim Haley was in the midst of one of his stories, when Fred, with a bat
in his hand, burst into the dormitory one Saturday morni