when he pitched a low ball to MacNeff. His friends left him in
the darkness of his room, knowing instinctively that it was best for
him to be alone.

Ken undressed and crawled wearily into bed and stretched out as if he
knew and was glad he would never move his limbs again. The silence and
the darkness seemed to hide him from himself. His mind was a whirling
riot of fire, and in it was a lurid picture of that moment with MacNeff
at bat. Over and over and over he lived it in helpless misery. His ears
were muffled with that huge tide of sound. Again and again and again he
pitched the last ball, to feel his heart stop beating, to see the big
captain lunge at the ball, to watch it line and rise and soar.

But gradually exhaustion subdued his mental strife, and he wandered in
mind and drifted into sleep. When he woke it was with a cold, unhappy
shrinking from the day. His clock told the noon hour; he had slept
long. Outside the June sunlight turned the maple leaves to gold. Was
it possible, Ken wondered dully, for the sun ever to shine again? Then
Scotty came bustling in.

"Mr. Wau-rd, won't ye be hovin' breakfast?" he asked, anxiously.

"Scotty, I'll never eat again," replied Ken.

There were quick steps upon the stairs and Worry burst in, rustling
a newspaper.

"Hello, old man!" he called, cheerily. "Say! Look at this!"

He thrust the paper before Ken's eyes and pointed to a column:

Place Beat Wayne by a Lucky Drive. Young Ward
Pitched the Greatest Game Ever Pitched on
Place Field and Lost It in the Ninth, with
Two Men Out and Three and Two on MacNeff

Ken's dull, gloom-steeped mind underwent a change, but he could not
speak. He sat up in bed, clutching the paper, and gazing from it to
the coach. Raymond came in, followed by Homans, and, last, Reddy Ray,
who sat down upon the bed. They were all smiling, and that seemed
horrible to Ken.

"But, Worry--Reddy--I--I lost the game--threw it away!" faltered Ken.

"Oh no, Peg. You pitched a grand game. Only in the stretch you got one
ball too low," said Reddy.

"Peg, you started to go up early in the game," added Worry, with a smile,
as if the fact was amusing. "You made your first balloon-ascension in
the seventh. And in the ninth you exploded. I never seen a better case
of up-in-the-air. But, Peg, in spite of it you pitched a wonderful game.
You had me guessin'. I couldn't take you out of the box. Darn me if I
didn't think you'd shut Place out in spi