n order or a sign. His worried look had vanished with
the crude playing of his team.

That night the Hornell captain, a veteran player of unquestionable
ability, was entertained at Carlton Club by Wayne friends, and he
expressed himself forcibly: "We came over to beat Wayne's weak team.
It'll be some time till we discover what happened. Young Ward has the
most magnificent control and speed. He's absolutely relentless. And
that frog-legged second-baseman--oh, say, can't he cover ground! Homans
is an all-round star. Then, your red-headed Ray, the sprinter--he's a
marvel. Ward, Homans, Ray--they're demons, and they're making demons
of the kids. I can't understand why Wayne students don't support their
team. It's strange."

What the Hornell captain said went from lip to lip throughout the club,
and then it spread, like a flame in wind-blown grass, from club to
dormitory, and thus over all the university.

"Boys, the college is wakin' up," said Worry, rubbing his hands.
"Yesterday's game jarred 'em. They can't believe their own ears. Why,
Hornell almost beat Dale's team last spring. Now, kids, look out. We'll
stand for no fussin' over us. We don't want any jollyin'. We've waited
long for encouragement. It didn't come, and now we'll play out the
string alone. There'll be a rush to Grant Field. It cuts no ice with
us. Let 'em come to see the boys they hissed and guyed early in the
spring. We'll show 'em a few things. We'll make 'em speechless. We'll
make 'em so ashamed they won't know what to do. We'll repay all their
slights by beatin' Place."

Worry was as excited as on the day he discovered that Ken was a pitcher.

"One more word, boys," he went on. "Keep together now. Run back here to
your rooms as quick as you get leave from college. Be civil when you are
approached by students, but don't mingle, not yet. Keep to yourselves.
Your reward is comin'. It'll be great. Only wait!"

And that was the last touch of fire which moulded Worry's players into
a family of brothers. Close and warm and fine was the culmination of
their friendship. On the field they were dominated by one impulse,
almost savage in its intensity. When they were off the field the
springs of youth burst forth to flood the hours with fun.

In the mornings when the mail-man came there was always a wild scramble
for letters. And it developed that Weir received more than his share.
He got mail every day, and his good-fortune could not escape the lynx
eyes