your teammates;
but you won't hurt Grant--otherwise than his feelings."

"I don't believe it would hurt his feelings a great deal."

Roger was vexed, but he continued to maintain his calm manner. "You
ought to know him better than any one else around here; you ought to
know whether he's at all sensitive or not. I'll tell you honestly, if
I were in his place to-day, I'd feel it. Now, I'm your friend, old
fellow, and I want you to listen to me and take my advice. Forget it.
Get out for practice, treat Grant the same as before, and make up your
mind you'll do your level best to redeem yourself in the next game you
pitch. You'll have plenty of chances to show the stuff you're made of."

"I don't suppose the fellows have much confidence in me now."

"Nonsense! Unless they're chumps, they know every pitcher has his off
days. There'll be a practice game to-night; we'll play against a
picked up scrub team. Now, I want to see you at the field in a suit
and ready to do your part."

"All right," agreed Phil.

But later, conscience-stricken and ashamed, he could not bring himself
to seek Rodney Grant and own up manfully to his silly behavior. And
Grant, having begun to feel piqued, made no further advances.

At noon that day Roy Hooker returned to school, bringing a written
excuse from his mother. Having a chance to speak privately with
Springer, he said:

"I hear Eliot has expressed his estimation of you and Rod Grant."

Phil started. "You can near lots of things," he retorted sharply.

"The fellows have been talking about it," returned Roy. "They say
Eliot has said Grant will make a better pitcher than you, because you
lack heart."

It was a blow below the belt, and, in spite of himself, Phil could not
help showing the effect.

"He's welcome to th-think what he chooses," he exclaimed hotly; "it
doesn't disturb me."

Nevertheless, he was so much disturbed that, in spite of his promise to
Roger, he was not with the team when it took the field that night for
the practice game. For he himself had vainly sought to put aside the
depressing and unnerving conviction that in steadiness, stamina and
self-confidence, Rodney Grant was his superior; something he had
determined never to breathe to any one else, but which the keen
judgment of the team captain had found out.

Nevertheless, when he reached home by a roundabout course, and found it
impossible to dismiss thoughts of the boys engaged in that practice