ends and nods to the passing skiffs.

Opposite the boat house, a modest bit of architecture, lies Long Isle,
just where the river seemingly pauses for a deep breath after its bold
sweep around the promontory crowned by the Academy Buildings. Here and
there along the path are little wooden benches to tempt the passer to
rest and view from their hospitable seats the grand panorama of gently
flowing river, of broad marsh and meadow beyond, of tiny villages
dotting the distances, and of the purple wall of haze marking the line
of the distant mountains.

Opposite Long Isle, a wonderful fairyland inaccessible to the scholars
save on rare occasions, the river path meets the angle of the Station
Road, where the coach makes its first turn. Then the path grows
indistinct, merges into a broad ten-acre plot whereon are the track,
gridiron, baseball ground, and the beginning of the golf links. This is
the campus. And here is Stony Bunker, and beyond it is the bluff and the
granite ledge; and lo! here we are back again at the point from which we
started on our journey of discovery; back to Outfield West and to the
boy in the ridiculous straw hat.

CHAPTER III.

OUTFIELD WEST.

It was several moments before West recovered his breath enough to speak,
during which time he sat and gazed at his rescuer in amazement not
unmixed with curiosity. And the rescuer looked down at West in simple
amusement.

"Thanks," gasped West at length. "I suppose I'd have broke my silly neck
if you hadn't given me a hand just when you did."

The other nodded. "You're welcome, of course; but I don't believe you'd
have been very much hurt. What's that thing?" nodding toward the
brassie, still tightly clutched in West's hand.

"A bras--a golf club. I was knocking a ball around a bit, and it went
over the cliff here."

"I should think golf was a rather funny sort of a game."

"It isn't funny at all, if you know anything about it," replied West a
trifle sharply. The rescuer was on dangerous ground, had he but
known it.

"Isn't it? Well, I guess it is all in getting used to it. I don't
believe I'd care much for tumbling over cliffs that way; I should think
it would use a fellow up after a while."

"Look here," exclaimed West, "you saved me an ugly fall, and I'm very
much obliged, and all that; but--but you don't know the first thing
about golf, and so you had better not talk about it." He made an effort
to gain his feet, but sat down again w