Meantime, as the train was speeding onward, the nine were in high spirits and full of fun. For a time, at least, their thoughts were with those left behind rather than with the unknown adversaries that were before them. They were too young and buoyant to borrow trouble. Their spirits rose as they plunged forward into new scenes, and all suggestions of possible defeats were left unheeded for to-day. Only Larry, "older than his years," felt a little foreboding at the entrance of this most important crisis of his young life. But his cheery face showed no sign of distrust or anxiety. He was, as usual, the center of a lively and talkative group of his comrades. He wore in his button-hole a delicate knot of flowers which had come there so mysteriously that none of the noisy fellows about him could guess who had put it there. "Who is she? Why didn't we see her?" queried the laughing boys as they pressed around Larry, affecting to sniff great delight from his nosegay. Larry's face beamed as he told them that this was a reminder that every Irishman must do his duty, and that he was going to carry the little bouquet to the field of victory for the Catalpas. "Those pansies grew in Judge Howell's garden," said Ben Burton, surlily, from his seat. Larry's eyes flashed at the covert insult that he thought he saw under Ben's sneer. But he said not a word. "For shame, Ben Burton!" cried Al Heaton, "for shame to call names like that!" There was a little cloud over the sun for a fleeting moment. But Larry's bright face and cheery voice soon dispelled the transient shadow, and the talk was turned into merrier channels. Ben Burton grumbled to himself, and, as he saw how his fellows clustered around Larry, whose brown and shining curls were only now and again visible among the lads who pranced about him, he said to Bill Van Orman, "Thinks he's the biggest toad in the puddle; don't he, Bill?" Bill, whose nickname was "The Lily," because he was so big, and red, and beefy, only opened his eyes in surprise. The telegraph office in Catalpa was in the second story of Niles's building, a brick structure on the main street of the town and chiefly occupied by lawyers and doctors. The narrow stairway was found too narrow for the throngs of people who flocked thither, next day, to learn the news from the contest in Sandy Key. Arrangements had been made by _The Catalpa Leaf_, the only daily paper in the place, to publish bulletins from the base ball ground, as fast as received. To all inquirers, Miss Millicent Murch, "the accomplished lady operator," as the local newspapers called her, stiffly replied that the telegraph office had no news to give away and that the editor of _The Leaf_ would distribute his intelligence as soon as received.