Hearty agreement greeted this, and George Meldrum said: “I think it would be fine if Mr. Craig would tell us something like that every evening. I guess all us fellows want to know about baseball; I mean stuff like he’s told us to-night. I know I do.” “That’s so,” agreed Ned Welch. “How about another lecture to-morrow, Mr. Craig!” “I’m afraid that’s what it sounded like, a lecture,” said Sam ruefully. “No, I didn’t mean it that way,” replied Ned earnestly. “We liked it. I always thought that stuff about a certain kind of a ball going to a certain part of the field was just--just made up by men who write about baseball. I didn’t think anyone could really know beforehand, sir.” “Let’s try it the next time we play,” said Mr. Gifford, “and see how it works out. Anyway, what Mr. Craig has said about shifting positions according to the batter is excellent advice. And we’ll see if we can’t persuade him to tell us some more to-morrow night, fellows. Who plays next Wednesday, by the way?” “Your team and the Brownies,” answered someone. And a discussion of the probable outcome of that contest followed and almost before anyone knew it nine o’clock had arrived. Camp-fire was always a pleasant hour. The fire was built each morning on a circular floor of stones some eighty feet up the hill from The Tepee and just at the edge of the forest. About it each night the councillors and boys gathered. At eight the fire was lighted and in its cheery glare the day’s events were discussed, stories were told, songs were sung, and plans for the morrow laid. Several of the boys played instruments. When the entire orchestra was assembled there were three mandolins, two banjos, and a violin to make music. None of the performers save perhaps Horace Chase was very talented, but all made up for lack of skill by their willingness to entertain. Young Chase, who played the violin, was of different calibre, and when he took his instrument out of its case the audience was sure of a real treat.