"Cæsar's battle-axe! What's going to happen?" demanded Phil, lazily turning over. "You're up, Tom." "Sure. I'm behind in my psychology work, and I've got to attend a stiff lecture this morning and stand for a quizz afterward. I'm afraid I'll slump." "I'll help you," came unexpectedly from Sid. "I've been all over that stuff, and I know what Pitchfork will try to stick you on. Get something on, and I'll help you bone." This was unexpected on Sid's part, but Tom was none the less grateful, and soon the two were delving deep into problems of mind and matter, while Phil protested that it was against all rules, and that he wanted to sleep. Tom did well in the "quizz," and this made him more than ever anxious to help Sid in his trouble. But the second baseman made no reference to it, and in practice that afternoon he did better than in several previous days at his stick work. "We'll eat up Dodville," prophesied Tom exultantly. "That's the way to lambast 'em, Sid!" But Randall didn't "eat up" Dodville. They beat the preparatory school nine, as indeed they should have done, but the score was no great showing of the abilities of Randall. For the smaller lads hit Tom rather too frequently, and their fielding was a joy to the heart of their coach and captain. Even Mr. Leighton complimented them on it, and he did not say much to his own men, who, to say the least, were a bit ragged. "Dodville shouldn't have gotten more than one run," declared the coach as the nine was returning, "yet you fellows let them get six." "Yes," added Tom bitterly. "I can see a large, gold-framed picture of us winning that loving cup, when we go up against Boxer Hall and Fairview again." "You needn't talk," declared Sid, somewhat bitterly. "You issued plenty of walking papers to-day, and they found you several times, in spite of your curves." "I didn't muff a ball, and let a man get away from me on second, though," retorted Tom. "Oh, come on, fellows, let's sing," proposed Holly Cross, as a way out of the difficulty, and when some of the old college lays had been rendered the team was in better humor. That evening, when Tom was putting a new toe-plate on his shoe, and Sid was pretending to study in one corner of the room, but scarcely glancing at his book, there came a summons at the door. Sid jumped up at the knock, and there was a look of apprehension on his face, which vanished, however, when Wallops, the messenger, came with word that Phil was wanted on the telephone. The first baseman returned presently, to announce: "My sister wants to see me, over at Fairview." "Anything the matter?" asked Tom quickly, and with suspicious interest. "No, she has a letter from dad, with something in about vacation plans, and she wants to talk to me about it. I'll be back soon. Don't sit up for me--ta-ta," and Phil was gone.