Tom smiled. “No, it’s---- Here’s--here’s the letter I got this morning. You can read it for yourself. I don’t know why they wrote to me unless this chap has bought goods from us. I haven’t looked him up yet.” Sam took the brief typewritten letter and read it. It was addressed to “Manager Sporting Goods Department, Cummings and Wright, Amesville, Ohio,” and was as follows: “DEAR SIR:--Do you happen to know of a young man who will accept a position in a boys’ camp this summer, July 5 to September 13? We’ve only been running one year and can’t offer big pay, but we’ll provide comfortable sleeping quarters and plenty of good food and pay five a week. If you know of anyone, please drop me a line right away. Applicant must be moral, know something about handling boys--we take them from eleven to fifteen--and able to help instruct in athletics. References required. Thanking you in advance for any trouble I am putting you to, “Respectfully, “WARREN LANGHAM, Director.” The letter was typed on a sheet of paper bearing at the top the legend: “The Wigwam; a Summer Camp for Boys, Indian Lake, Ohio. Warren Bradley Langham, A.M., Director.” Sam read it twice, the second time more thoughtfully. Then he looked questioningly at Tom. “Interest you?” asked the latter. “If I could take it I’d do it in a minute, Sam.” “Yes, but this man’s looking for someone a heap older than I am, I guess, Tom, although he doesn’t say anything about age. ‘A young man’; that’s all.” “Well, aren’t you a young man?” “I’m young,” agreed Sam, “but I’m no man yet. Anyway, I suppose I couldn’t go so far. There’s just my mother and Nell at home----” “It would be only about nine weeks, though. The pay isn’t big, but----” “The pay’s all right, Tom, because I’d be getting my board, you see. The only thing would be leaving my folks alone so long. Still----” Sam thoughtfully fondled the catcher’s mitt. “You could give him all the references he wanted,” urged Tom. “Who from?” asked the other doubtfully. “What sort of references?” “Why, from your minister and your school principal, of course.” “Oh! Well, what about handling boys? I never handled any. And what about helping to instruct in athletics?” “He doesn’t say that you must be _used_ to handling them; only that you must know something about it. You do, don’t you?” Sam looked blank. “Do I?” he asked. “Of course you do! Any fellow does who has sense and has been a kid himself.” Tom laughed. “You’re too modest, Sam. Throw out your chest! Aren’t you captain of the Amesville High School Nine? As for instructing in athletics, why, all that means is that you’ll have to play ball with the kids and arrange running and jumping stunts and---- Say, you can swim, can’t you?” “Yes.” Sam seemed quite decided about that. “There you are, then! You take the letter and write to Mr. Whatshisname right off.” “I’d like to,” mused Sam. “I’d like the job.”