At seven the next morning they were astir, and, after a substantial breakfast, submitted themselves to "Reddy's" rubdown and massage, at the conclusion of which their bodies were glowing, their eyes bright, and they felt "fine as silk," in Reddy's phrase, and ready for anything. It was like getting a string of thoroughbreds thoroughly groomed and sending them to the post fit to race for a kingdom. To keep them from dwelling on the game, Reddy took them for a quiet stroll in the country, returning only in time for a leisurely though not hearty dinner, after which they piled into their 'bus and started for the ball field. As they drove into the carriage gate at the lower end of the field they fairly gasped at the sight that met their eyes. They had never played before such a tremendous crowd as this. Grandstands and bleachers, the whole four sides of the field were packed with tier upon tier of noisy and jubilant rooters. Old "grads," pretty girls and their escorts waving flags, singing songs, cheering their favorites, shouting their class cries, made a picture that, once seen, could never be forgotten. "Some crowd, all right," said Dick to Bert, as they came out on the field for preliminary practise. "Yes," said Bert, "and nine out of ten of them expect and hope to see us lose. We must put a crimp in that expectation, from the stroke of the gong." "And we will, too," asserted Tom, confidently, "they never saw the day when they were a better team than ours, and it's up to our boys to prove it to them, right off the reel." "How does your arm feel to-day?" asked Dick. "Can you mow them down in the good old way, if you go in the box?" "Never felt better in my life," rejoined Bert. "I feel as though I could pitch all day if necessary." "That sounds good," said Dick, throwing his arm over Bert's shoulder. "If that's the way you feel, we've got the game sewed up already." "Don't be too sure, old man," laughed Bert. "You'd better 'knock wood.' We've seen too many good things go wrong to be sure of anything in this world of chance. By the way," he went on, "who is that fellow up near our bench? There's something familiar about him. By George, it's Ainslee," and they made a rush toward the stalwart figure that turned to meet them with a smile of greeting. "In the name of all that's lucky," cried Dick, as he grasped his hand and shook it warmly, "how did you manage to get here? I thought you were with your team at Pittsburgh. There's no man on earth I'd rather see here to-day." "Well," returned the coach, his face flushing with pleasure at the cordial greeting, "I pitched yesterday, and as it will be two or three days before my turn in the box comes round again, I made up my mind it was worth an all-night's journey to come up here and see you whale the life out of these fellows. Because of course that's what you're going to do, isn't it? You wouldn't make me spend all that time and money for nothing, would you?" he grinned.