Sam was surprised the next afternoon when he reached the high school athletic field to find that the game with Lynton had drawn together quite an audience. Perhaps the fact that the summer weather still held, with no hint as yet of autumn, accounted for the baseball enthusiasm. Usually by the middle of September the fellows were far too engrossed with football to heed the rival game. To-day the school had turned out in force, and there was a fair sprinkling of girls in the stand. Sam met many acquaintances he had not seen since his return and his progress through the gate and around to the dressing-room was slow. Frank Warner, last year’s captain of the high school team, for whom Sam had never entertained a very great liking, was quite affable. Frank, as he confided with studied carelessness, was off to college the middle of next week. Sam said he hoped he’d like it. “Oh, I dare say I’ll like it well enough,” replied the other. “It’s not a bad place, I guess. I’m going to Warner, you know. They turn out some pretty decent teams there. I’m going to have a try for freshman football. I suppose college isn’t included in your scheme, Sam.” “Oh, I don’t know,” replied the other, trying not to show his resentment of Frank’s patronising tone. “I rather expect to go to Warner myself next fall. May see you there, Frank. Good luck.” He turned away with a careless nod and sought the dressing-room. And as he went the determination to enter Warner College next year, by hook or crook, took possession of him. Until that moment he had not viewed the idea seriously, in spite of Mr. York’s enthusiasm and his own desire, but now he told himself that somehow he would carry it out, if only, he added grimly, to show Frank Warner that he didn’t own the college, even if it did have the same name! And then he was in the dressing-room and a shout of welcome arose, and he had to forget his great resolve and return the greetings of the dozen or so fellows present. There was Tommy Hughes and “Buster” Healey and young Peddie and Sid Morris and Tom and Pete Farrar and Bert Meyers and six or seven more, many of them just back from summer vacations and pleading with Tom to be allowed to join the Blues for the occasion. Tom good-naturedly accepted them all as substitutes and promised to use them as he could, and consequently, when the team gave up the field to Lynton, some twenty minutes later, the home team’s bench was much too small to accommodate all the players and substitutes. Mr. Talbot, the high school coach, appeared accompanied by Mr. George, the latter a former league pitcher, who had helped with the team the preceding spring. It was Mr. Talbot who drew Tom’s attention to a big, wide-shouldered youth, who was lazily pitching the ball to a substitute catcher at the far side of the diamond. “You don’t mean they’re going to pitch that fellow, do you?” asked the coach.