“I don’t know. Looks like it, doesn’t it? I know they pretend to have clean hands and all that, and they surely do enough blowing, but it’s mighty funny they’re always getting star players from the high schools and smaller prep schools. Look at last year. If they hadn’t had Greene and Powers they’d never have licked us; and Greene had just entered from that school up in Rhode Island and Powers was fresh from Stamford High. Oh, well, there’s no use grouching. Let’s go back.” “Wait a moment.” Bob still stared at his hands and spoke thoughtfully. “Seems to me this chap’s too good to lose, Joe, without making an effort.” “Sure he is,” growled the captain. “What’s on your mind?” Bob looked around guardedly. “I’ll tell you,” he said. CHAPTER II KIDNAPPED! “Well, our station’s next,” said Bob some forty minutes later. “Better change your mind, Harmon, and get off with us.” Harmon answered his laugh and shook his head. “I’d like to, but I’m booked up the line. Is Lakeville the next stop?” “Second after Alton,” answered Joe as he lifted the suitcases from the rack and handed them to Bob. “Look us up when you come over with the team some time. You’ll find Newhall and me in Lykes and Proctor in Haylow.” There was a warning blast from the locomotive and the train came slowly to a stop. The three Altonians shook hands with Harmon, taking, as it seemed, much time in the ceremony. Outside, on the station platform, a score or more of boys were hurrying toward the carriage stand. Bob had encumbered himself with Joe’s bag and his own and it was he who led the way to the door at last, Martin following with his suitcase and Joe still making his farewell to Harmon. Then the cry of “All aboard!” came and Joe gave Harmon’s hand a final clasp, picked up the kit-bag and fled down the aisle. For a brief instant Harmon thought his sight had tricked him, but a swift glance showed that his bag was missing and in another instant he was on his feet and calling to Joe. “Hold on there! that’s my bag you’ve got!” he shouted. But Joe evidently didn’t hear, for he was through the door and down the steps before Harmon started after him. When Harmon reached the car platform Joe and his two companions were fifty feet distant, seeking a conveyance. The train was still motionless, although, further back, a trainman was holding his hand aloft. There was but one thing to do and Harmon did it. In an instant he was pushing his way through the luggage-laden throng about the carriages. “You’ve got my bag, Myers,” he announced breathlessly as he laid hands on it. Joe looked around in surprise, still holding tight to the bag. “What did you say?” he asked blankly. Harmon tugged desperately. “My bag! Let go, will you? I’ll lose my train!”