eting the ball.
The hit was a savage liner, curving away from him. Cinders under his
flying feet were a warning that he did not heed. He was on the track.
He leaped into the air, left hand outstretched, and felt the ball
strike in his glove.

Then all was dark in a stunning, blinding crash--

VIII

EXAMINATIONS

When Ken Ward came fully to his senses he was being half carried
and half led across the diamond to the players' bench. He heard
Worry Arthurs say: "He ain't hurt much--only butted into the fence."

Ken tried manfully to entertain Worry's idea about it, but he was too
dazed and weak to stand alone. He imagined he had broken every bone in
his body.

"Did I make the catch--hang to the ball?" he asked.

"No, Peg, you didn't," replied the coach, kindly. "But you made a grand
try for it."

He felt worse over failing to hold the ball than he felt over half
killing himself against the bleachers. He spent the remainder of
that never-to-be-forgotten game sitting on the bench. But to watch
his fellow-players try to play was almost as frightful as being
back there in right field. It was no consolation for Ken to see
his successor chasing long hits, misjudging flies, failing weakly
on wicked grounders. Even Graves weakened toward the close and
spoiled his good beginning by miserable fumbles and throws. It was
complete and disgraceful rout. The varsity never let up until the
last man was out. The team could not have played harder against
Place or Herne. Arthurs called the game at the end of the sixth
inning with the score 41 to 0.

Many beaten and despondent players had dragged themselves off Grant
Field in bygone years. But none had ever been so humiliated, so crushed.
No player spoke a word or looked at another. They walked off with bowed
heads. Ken lagged behind the others; he was still stunned and lame.
Presently Arthurs came back to help him along, and did not speak until
they were clear of the campus and going down Ken's street.

"I'm glad that's over," said Worry. "I kicked against havin' the game,
but 'em fat-head directors would have it. Now we'll be let alone. There
won't be no students comin' out to the field, and I'm blamed glad."

Ken was sick and smarting with pain, and half crying.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Arthurs," he faltered, "we were--so--so--rotten!"

"See here, Peg," was the quick reply, "that cuts no ice with me. It was
sure the rottenest exhibition I ever seen in my life. But there's e