“Probably you mean smash, Wattles. No, I didn’t see it, but I’m glad to hear it. Do you mean that he stood up to the plate, like the others, and didn’t crouch?” “Absolutely, sir. I was quite surprised!” Loring chuckled. “So I’d have been if I’d seen it. I was wondering what’s happened to Mr. Cooper to-day. He has seemed so interested in Tom’s try for second that I was sure he’d be out this afternoon. Perhaps he thought it was going to rain. It did look like it awhile back, but――――” Loring’s ruminative flow was abruptly checked. Slim Scott had knocked a foul into the air, and the descending ball was making straight for the wheelchair. There was a desperate ejaculation from Wattles, his stool fell backward and there was a loud _smack_ as the sphere struck his cupped hands and――marvel of marvels――stayed there! “Fine work!” exclaimed Loring gleefully. An audience of two score on field and stand laughingly applauded, and Wattles, his long countenance expressing mingled surprise and triumph, stepped forward and with a sweep of his arm bowled the ball toward the pitcher. There was a sharp exclamation of dismay from that youth as he sprang nimbly aside, and the bounding missile sped on into the outfield. “Well bowled, sir!” shouted Tom from the bench, joyously. “Oh, very well bowled, sir!” Wattles resumed his seat with dignity, resettled his disturbed derby, wiped his hands with a handkerchief and tried very hard to look as if nothing had happened. But he didn’t succeed, for the feat had left a glow of exaltation on his countenance. He had faced the oft threatened crisis, had met it, had won! There was, in fact, a new and strange light in his eyes as he rubbed his tingling palms gently together, such a light as may perhaps have shone in the eyes of Columbus as he first sighted the shore of a new continent! “Gee,” said Loring enviously, “I wish I could have caught that, Wattles! Say, I’ll bet it felt good, didn’t it?” Wattles cleared his throat. “Er――yes, sir, I think I may say that the sensation was surprisingly agreeable.” After that whenever a ball was pitched to a batsman in front of the net Wattles became tense and expectant. But although fouls were frequent they usually struck the hood of the net and not again was Wattles allowed to experience the agreeable sensation. When Tom made his second trip to the net Loring was sorrier than ever that Mr. Cooper wasn’t on hand, for Tom behaved most remarkably. Instead of standing away, with widespread feet, and crouching, he stood straight, almost toeing the rubber. And instead of waving his bat around continuously he kept it almost still. Doubtless Clouter Hearn would have wept or gnashed his teeth had he been there to see! Having disdainfully allowed the first offering to pass him, Tom met the next one and hit it straight over second. A moment later he lifted a fly to short left, and then, to complete a perfect exhibition, bunted nicely.