Tom couldn’t see as much humour in it as Mr. Cummings, but he smiled and hurried out to arrange for having the pump hauled out to the farm. When he returned to the store, Mr. Cummings was telling the junior partner about it, and Mr. Wright was cackling as if it was the best joke in the world. That was a busy week for Tom. School closed on Wednesday, but before that there was a big dance in the school hall given by the graduating class. Tom went, dressed in his best suit of black serge, which was rather shiny by daylight but looked almost new at night, and had a rather enjoyable time. He didn’t dance, for he didn’t know how and would have been too shy if he had, but there were lots of other boys who didn’t dance either, and they had a merry time looking on with superior manners and passing jokes about the others. Besides that, there were wonderful refreshments and the non-dancers soon discovered that they possessed a distinct advantage in being able to visit the tables as often as they wished! Sidney, with a blue-and-gold badge pinned to the lapel of his evening coat, was in fine feather and quite in his element. Tom didn’t see very much of him, for Sidney was an indefatigable dancer and was, besides, on the committee. The next day the graduation exercises took place in the forenoon and at three o’clock the High School team met the Amesville Electric Company nine. The Electrics were a good deal older than their opponents, but in spite of that High School had no difficulty in beating them, 14 to 6. Tom found himself again that afternoon. Each of the three pitchers was put in for three innings, Pete Farrar starting the game, Tom following him, and Toby Williams finishing out. Tom’s slants worked to perfection and in the three innings that he pitched only two men reached first base. All the runs made by the Electrics were scored during Pete’s period on the mound. Toby, if he allowed the enemy to press him hard once or twice, emerged with a clean slate. On Thursday there was a big picnic at a neighbouring grove, but Tom, a bit conscience-stricken at having been away from the store so much, did not attend. Final baseball practice was held Friday forenoon and the boys had a severe siege of it. The pitchers worked for nearly an hour under Mr. George’s direction before they were released to take part in fielding practice. Mr. George, on Monday, had heard Tom’s account of his Saturday’s fiasco in the box and had reiterated what Mr. Cummings had said. “You shouldn’t have tried to pitch, Tom,” he said. “You should have told Bat that you weren’t fit for it and he’d have let you off.” “I know, sir, but after going to all that trouble to get there in time for the game----”