“Well, we don’t want you to, Tom. You’ve made a paying thing of that department of yours and I don’t see why it shouldn’t be developed even more, nor why, when you have more time to give to it, it shouldn’t make more money for us than it’s doing now. And you mustn’t think that twelve dollars is as far as you can go with us, either. We’re willing to pay for what we get, Tom, and just as soon as you can show us you’re worth fifteen or twenty or even thirty, son, you’ll get it.” Life looked very bright to Tom just then, and when, on the next Saturday afternoon, he pitched Amesville High to a hard-won victory over Lynton, going the whole nine innings without a falter and receiving the best of support from his team-mates, his cup of happiness seemed filled to overflowing. Mr. George returned on the morning of that day, watched his protégé perform, and had all sorts of nice things to say to him afterward. To be sure, there was criticism interspersed with the praise, for naturally enough Tom still showed inexperience, but Tom was quite as grateful for the criticism as for the praise. Mr. Cummings rubbed his hands all the way back--he seldom missed a game now--and beamed proudly upon Tom. One would have thought from the senior partner’s attitude toward the boy that he was directly responsible for the latter’s baseball prowess! The school viewed Tom as a hero and impatiently reiterated its former conundrum, Why had not Tom been allowed to pitch against Petersburg? “Just wait until next Saturday, though,” it said confidently. “We won’t do a thing to those dubs, with Pollock in the box! Just watch us!” There was no Wednesday game that week, as it happened, since Turner’s Falls cancelled her date because of the illness of two of her best players. But there were four days of the hardest sort of practice. And the fellows stood in need of it, since examinations had seriously interfered with the attendance of late. Tom spent Wednesday afternoon with the team and worked hard, so hard that Mr. George forbade practice in the side-yard when they returned home. “It won’t do to run any risks with your arm, Tom,” he said. “I suppose they’ll pitch you Saturday. Can’t see what else they can do. So you want to take things easy, son.”