enough for the first day. Ken knew it and he began to
wonder why the others, especially Weir, did not know it. But Weir jogged
on, his head up, his hair flying, as if he had not yet completed his
first quarter. The other players stretched out behind him. Ken saw
Raymond's funny little green cap bobbing up and down, and it made him
angry. Why could not the grouch get a decent cap, anyway?

At the end of the third mile Ken began to labor. His feet began to
feel weighted, his legs to ache, his side to hurt. He was wringing wet;
his skin burned; his breath whistled. But he kept doggedly on. It had
become a contest now. Ken felt instinctively that every runner would
not admit he had less staying power than the others. Ken declared to
himself that he could be as bull-headed as any of them. Still to see
Weir jogging on steady and strong put a kind of despair on Ken. For
every lap of the fourth mile a runner dropped out, and at the half of
the fifth only Weir, Raymond, and Ken kept to the track.

Ken hung on gasping at every stride. He was afraid his heart would burst.
The pain in his side was as keen as a knife thrust. His feet were lead.
Every rod he felt must be his last, yet spurred on desperately, and
he managed to keep at the heels of the others. It might kill him,
but he would not stop until he dropped. Raymond was wagging along
ready to fall any moment, and Weir was trotting slowly with head down.
On the last lap of the fifth mile they all stopped as by one accord.
Raymond fell on the grass; Ken staggered to a bench, and Weir leaned
hard against the fence. They were all blowing like porpoises and
regarded each other as mortal enemies. Weir gazed grandly at the
other two; Raymond glowered savagely at him and then at Ken; and
Ken in turn gave them withering glances. Without a word the three
contestants for a place on the varsity then went their several ways.

VI

OUT ON THE FIELD

When Ken presented himself at the cage on the following Monday it was
to find that Arthurs had weeded out all but fifty of the candidates.
Every afternoon for a week the coach put these players through batting
and sliding practice, then ordered them out to run around the track.
On the next Monday only twenty-five players were left, and as the number
narrowed down the work grew more strenuous, the rivalry keener, and the
tempers of the boys more irascible.

Ken discovered it was work and not by any means pleasant work. He
fortifie