Riverport rooters.

The scene immediately took on a lively air. Fred and his five chums were
feeling in just the right trim for a warm scrimmage with their
Mechanicsburg rivals, who had always managed to give them a hard task
before confessing to defeat, and were said to be breathing all manner of
threats with regard to evening up the score at the very next available
opportunity.

It seemed as though there were about the same number of lads on the other
side, and they had one advantage in the fact that, knowing of the
presence of the Riverport fellows, they had secretly prepared an enormous
number of fine round balls, so firmly pressed as to be almost as hard as
stones.

Preparation is all very good, but there is something that, as a rule,
proves even better. This is organization and leadership, backed up by
pluck; and here the Riverside boys were in a class by themselves.

Somehow, when an emergency like this suddenly arose, they were accustomed
to looking to Fred Fenton as leader. It may have been because Nature had
fashioned him in such a way that others readily believed in his ability
to win; past experiences had considerable to do with it, and they had
known him to carry off the honors for the home school on many a hotly
contested field.

For a short time the air was filled with flying snowballs, most of which
were fruitlessly thrown, though the better marksmen managed to now and
then get in a telling hit, that gave them more or less satisfaction.

Fred soon saw, however, that this sort of play would lead to nothing.
One side or the other might become exhausted, and call a truce; but there
would be little satisfaction in such a tame victory. What he wanted was
an exhibition of strategy, by means of which the enemy would be fairly
routed.

"Brad, take Colon and Dave, and work off to the right, while the rest of
us turn their other flank!" he explained to the track captain, as they
dodged a new flurry of deftly thrown missiles.

"That's the ticket, and we're on to the game, Fred!" came the immediate
response, showing how ready the others were to follow up any scheme which
Fred proposed.

"Lay in a stock of ammunition first of all," cautioned Fred; "and when I
sing out, make your start. We'll round up that lively bunch in a hurry,
mark me."

His confidence filled his mates with enthusiasm, as it always did. A
belief in one's self goes a great way toward winning the battle, no
matter how the odds ma