t up to Gus,
caught him by the arm and pulled him over toward Bill and Mr. Gay.

"See here," said Siebold; "I'm no piker. I've been dead wrong and nobody
has to tell me. So, Grier, honestly I never saw such pitching outside of
the national leagues. And if you'll let me, I want to be friends, and I
want you on the team. Mr. Gay, you're right: Maxwell on first and you,
Grier, in the box. Are you with us?"

Siebold extended his hand and Gus shook it warmly. The captain turned to
Bill. "You, too. We have to thank you for this business, the best stroke
of luck we have ever had."

Bill shook Siebold's hand with as much gusto as he would have that of
any downright hero. A fellow who could muzzle his pride and do the
square thing in this manner, especially after he had been licked in a
way that hurt, was a real man.

"And look here, Brown! I've generally messed up this captain business
and the managing too; and you have got together a team in short order
that I wouldn't have believed could have slammed us for six runs. Will
you manage us? I'll see that you are elected. Grier can be cap----"

"No, sir," said Bill. "Gus doesn't want to be captain. You'll remain
captain, Siebold, or we'll both take our doll clothes and go home. But I
will try my hand at advising, if you wish. 'Two heads,' you know----"

"Hurrah!" shouted Siebold. "Brown is manager! And we've got a pitcher
now! We're going to lick those Guilford fellows so bad they'll think
they've got brain fever!"

CHAPTER XX

MARSHALLTON _versus_ GUILFORD

Bill for once laid aside everything but his studies to give his
attention to the game with Guilford Academy, the last athletic contest
of the school year. It was played at Guilford, where the grounds were
fenced in and tickets of invitation given. As manager of the visiting
team, Bill had his quota to distribute in and outside of the Tech. With
his characteristic thoroughness he saw that no one was slighted who was
at all worthy, rich or poor. This was not so liberally managed at the
Guilford end.

The grand stand was pretty well filled, but Bill had reserved some good
seats and to these he conducted the Farrells and their niece, stopping
to tell them that Gus was pitching and that they must root for
Marshallton, which of course they did. After this, with some tickets
left over, Bill went outside and skirted the grounds, finding a dozen
youngsters hunting