“That was a great finish to-day, Chip,” said the Southerner, rather awkwardly. “And your pitching showed me a whole lot I had never even guessed. If I had been in your place, they’d have pounded me off the mound in two innings, Chip.” “Not much,” said Chip. “Luck broke with us, that was all. By the way, their pitcher was Southpaw Diggs, Bob. Some credit in beating him, eh? I was almost gone in the seventh, for a fact.” “Diggs!” Bob gasped. “I guess you had mighty little luck in that game, Chip, and a whole lot of good playing! I heard a fellow near us saying that he thought the first baseman was a semipro player from Buffalo.” “Likely enough,” said Chip thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Colonel Carson had got professionals all the way through, because he expected to clear up a big wad. It must have cost him a lot, even besides what he lost! Well, that only goes to show that a fellow gets exactly what he gives, Bob. Your attitude toward the world will be bound to be reflected back at you from the world.” “I suppose that’s about right,” and Randall’s handsome face clouded. “By the way,” said Chip suddenly, “I may leave Fardale almost any time now, old man. I had a notion of having a team meeting to-night or Monday, and putting it up to them about electing you captain----” “Hold on a minute, Chip,” broke in Randall, his eyes fixing those of Merry in a peculiar fashion. “Did you and Carson drink those glasses of water I had poured out?” “Eh?” Merry’s thoughts went back swiftly to the scene in Bob’s room. “Why, yes!” “Then that’s what’s the matter with Bully,” and Randall faced Merry, white-faced but firm. “I had doped one glass of water, hoping to put you out of the game for the afternoon. He got it by mistake. I pretended to be placated by your words this morning, Chip, and--well, I began to see differently later, that’s all. Now go ahead and do anything you want to--I’m glad that I’ve made a clean breast of it.” “So am I,” said Chip quietly. “As I was saying, I hope you’ll be elected the captain, to succeed me when I leave, Bob.” CHAPTER XXXIX. CONCLUSION. “You what!” gasped Randall, staring. “You’re joking with me!” “Not a bit of it,” said Merry. “I suppose Bully persuaded you to dope me?” “Well, he had a little to do with it,” admitted Randall, too proud to cast the blame where it rightly lay. “I can only apologize, Chip, and you----” “Why, old man, forget all about it!” exclaimed Merry, catching the other about the shoulders and turning toward the door. “There was nobody damaged in any way except Bully.” He broke off suddenly, and laughed.