The Providence team was having practice when Tom and Willard and three or four others made their way to the “bleachers.” (There was a first-rate grand stand, with backs to the benches and a roof overhead, but seats thereon cost fifteen cents extra, and neither Tom nor Willard was in the habit of occupying them.) It was pretty hot on the bleachers, with the sun slanting down on your head, and Tom and Willard followed the example of the boys already there and took off their jackets. Jerry, who had stopped to remind Captain Chester Madden of his existence and willingness to help the team in an emergency, joined the group presently and sandwiched himself in between Tom and “Spider” Wells. “Is he going to let you play?” inquired Spider, who was a tall, thin youth with mild blue eyes and a shock of corn-colored hair. “When all the others are killed off,” replied Jerry cheerfully. “Say, those chaps look pretty husky, don’t they?” It was agreed that they did, and Teddy Thurston, who was seated behind Willard, digging his sharp knees into that youth’s back, had an admiring word for the natty gray uniforms and purple stockings of the Providence team. “They look like plums,” commented Jerry. “The Providence Plums! How’s that for a name?” “I hope we find them soft,” observed Tom. “So do I. If we beat ’em I shall call them the Providence Prunes. There goes Chester to warm up. Who’s he pitching to, Tom?” “Poor, isn’t it? What’s the matter with letting Billy pitch?” Jerry winked meaningly. “Ches wants some glory. They’ll bat him out of the box in three innings; you see if they don’t.” “Hope they do,” said Spider Wells, blinking almost vindicatively. “Chester’s all the time trying to do things he can’t.” “He can play third base,” said Willard. “I wish he’d stay there. I suppose Tucker will play third. Look at the bunch of girls in the grand stand, will you!” “I pretty nearly got soaked for two grand stand seats,” said Teddy Thurston. “My sister wanted to come, but she got a headache the last time and I reminded mother of it and she said Bess couldn’t come. I’m in fifty-five cents.” “That’ll do for sodas when we get back,” suggested Jerry. “Any fellow who will put up a game like that on his sister has to pay for it, doesn’t he, fellows?” It was the unanimous opinion of the crowd that he did, and Teddy, after mentally figuring the expense, hesitatingly agreed. “Only,” he bargained, “it’s to be straight soda, fellows; no ice-creams, you know!” Jerry was for combating that ultimatum, but at the moment the Audelsville team, in their gray and blue suits, took the field for practice, and Jerry turned his attention to the home players.