“Receipt. That’s all. Reads like this: ‘Received of Frank Merriwell the sum of twenty-five dollars, in consideration of which I agree to his proposal.’ That’s simple.” “It looks loike a thrap.” “No trap.” “Phwat av ye wur to show thot recate against me?” “You could swear that the proposal was any old thing. If I swore it was something else, your word is as good as mine. As you are an officer, it should be a little better. This is a mere formality--a matter of business. I always take a receipt when I pay out money.” “It’s an Oirishman ye ought to be, me b’y,” declared O’Farrel, admiringly. “It’s a slick tongue ye have in th’ head av yez.” Then he signed the receipt, and Frank left the hospital, feeling well satisfied with the result of his visit. “I believe Hodge is safe now,” he thought. He was right. Somebody “blowed” on Hodge, and Bart was taken before O’Farrel. The injured policeman looked him over, and then positively stated that Hodge was not the one who slammed him against the post. He added that he did not remember Bart at all. Hodge was released. Ned Noon swore when he learned of this. “Beastly luck!” he grated. “Thought I had fixed it so Hodge would get snapped. That cop must be a fool!” Others were taken before O’Farrel, Browning among them, but he failed to say that he recognized one of them. The town lads who had been engaged in the affair kept still, fearing they would get into trouble if they came forward and told what they knew. All were astonished when O’Farrel failed to recognize Hodge, for it was not known that Bart had been saved by the hand of a friend. It was a great relief for Hodge, who had feared the outcome of his passionate act. As often as possible the regular nine and the “scrub” got out for practice. Hodge had not been given a trial on the regulars, for all of his good work on the scrub team. “We’ll fix that, old man,” said Frank Merriwell. “Haggerty and Walbert are going to be tried in the box next time, while I am to pitch against the regulars. Haggerty, you know, is the little chap who came here from Williams. He pitched against Yale year before last, and held Old Eli down to seven singles. Without doubt he is a good man. Walbert is an Andover man, who may show up well, although he is rather new.” “How are you going to fix the regulars?” asked Bart, eagerly. “I am going to pick the scrub to suit myself.” “How will you make up the team?” “You and I will make the battery, and I shall put Browning on first.” “What?” shouted Bart, astonished. “You can’t mean it?” “Why not?” “Why, he is too lazy to draw his breath, to say nothing of playing ball.” “That’s all right. He will play for me.” “And he will be worse than a wooden man on first bag.” “Not on your life! I know Browning. He is all right.” “Can’t see how you can say that, Frank. His laziness is something awful. He won’t be able to stir out of his tracks to stop a hit or a wild throw.”