to grow into something more.
It was strange to Ken what power a few words from Arthurs had to renew
his will and hope and daring. How different Arthurs was when not on the
field. There he was stern and sharp. Ken could not study that night,
and he slept poorly. His revival of hope did not dispel his nervous
excitement.

He went out into Grant Field next day fighting himself. When in
the practice Arthurs assigned him to a right-field position, he
had scarcely taken his place when he became conscious of a queer
inclination to swallow often, of a numbing tight band round his
chest. He could not stand still; his hands trembled; there was a
mist before his eyes. His mind was fixed upon himself and upon the
other five outfielders trying to make the team. He saw the players
in the infield pace their positions restlessly, run without aim when
the ball was hit or thrown, collide with each other, let the ball go
between their hands and legs, throw wildly, and sometimes stand as if
transfixed when they ought to have been in action. But all this was
not significant to Ken. He saw everything that happened, but he thought
only that he must make a good showing; he must not miss any flies, or
let a ball go beyond him. He absolutely must do the right thing. The
air of Grant Field was charged with intensity of feeling, and Ken
thought it was all his own. His baseball fortune was at stake, and
he worked himself in such a frenzy that if a ball had been batted
in his direction he might not have seen it at all. Fortunately none
came his way.

The first time at bat he struck out ignominiously, poking weakly
at the pitcher's out-curves. The second time he popped up a little
fly. On the next trial the umpire called him out on strikes. At his
last chance Ken was desperate. He knew the coach placed batting before
any other department of the game. Almost sick with the torture of the
conflicting feelings, Ken went up to the plate and swung blindly. To
his amaze he cracked a hard fly to left-centre, far between the fielders.
Like a startled deer Ken broke into a run. He turned first base and saw
that he might stretch the hit into a three-bagger. He knew he could run,
and never had he so exerted himself. Second base sailed under him, and
he turned in line for the third. Watching Graves, he saw him run for the
base and stand ready to catch the throw-in.

Without slacking his speed in the least Ken leaped into the air headlong
for the base. He hear