"That's right," came in a chorus, as the lads kept on toward the diamond. Tom was doing some hard thinking. It was a new responsibility for him--to run the team--and he wanted a manager on whom he could depend. If there was a contest over the place, as seemed likely from what Snail Looper had said, it would mean perhaps a dividing of interests, and lack of support for the team. He did not like the prospect, but he knew better than to tell his worries to the players now. At present he wanted to get them into some kind of shape, after a winter of comparative idleness. "Here comes Mr. Leighton," observed Phil, as a young, and pleasant-faced gentleman was seen strolling toward the diamond. "Everybody work hard now--no sloppy work." "That's right," assented Tom. "Fellows, what I want most to bring out this season," he went on, "is some good hitting. Good batting wins games, other things being equal. We've got to bat to win." "You needn't talk," put in Dutch Housenlager, coming up then, and, with his usual horse play trying to trip Tom. "You are the worst hitter on the team." "I know it," admitted Tom good naturedly, as he gave Dutch a welt on the chest, which made that worthy gasp. "My strong point isn't batting, and I know it. I can pitch a little, perhaps----" "You're there with the goods when it comes to twirling," called out Holly Cross. "Well, then, I'm going to depend on you fellows for the stick work," went on Tom. "But let's get down to business. The ground isn't so wet." "Well, boys, let's see what we can do," proposed the coach, and presently balls were being pitched and batted to and fro, grounders were being picked up by Bricktop Molloy, who excelled in his position of shortstop, while Jerry and Joe Jackson, the Jersey twins, with Phil Clinton, who on this occasion filled, respectively, the positions of right, left and center field were catching high flies. "Now for a practice game," proposed Tom. "I want to see if I have any of my curves left." Two scrub nines were soon picked out, and a game was gotten under way. It was "ragged and sloppy" as Holly Cross said, but it served to warm up the lads, and to bring out strong and weak points, which was the object sought. The team, of which Tom was just then the temporary captain, won by a small margin, and then followed some coaching instructions from Mr. Leighton. "That will do for to-day," he said. "Be at it again to-morrow, and we'll soon be in shape." The players and their admirers--lads who had not made the team--strolled off the diamond. Tom, walking along with Phil and Sid, suddenly put his hand in his pocket. "Just my luck!" he exclaimed. "What's the matter?" asked Phil. "I'm broke," was the answer, "and I want to get a new shirt. Phil, lend me a couple of dollars. I'll get my check from dad to-morrow."