for fielding, he soon acquired quite a local reputation, a fact which helped him in a business way, adding, as it did, to the authority on athletic affairs already popularly bestowed upon him. It was when he and Sidney were pitching and catching one evening that something occurred which had a far more important effect on Tom’s fortunes--and, for that matter, on the fortunes of the Amesville High School Baseball Team--than either of the boys could have imagined in their wildest dreams. They happened to have the lot to themselves that evening, none of the other fellows having shown up, and Sidney had been thudding the ball against Tom’s glove for some time. After every delivery Tom would return the ball at an overhand toss, as Sidney had instructed him to do. Presently, however, after a wild pitch had escaped him and he had had to chase back of the fence for it, he called to Sidney: “Sid, here you go. Watch my curve!” Twisting his fingers around the ball as he had seen Sidney do times innumerable, he shot the ball away. He had no more expected the ball to really curve than he had expected it to take wings and go over the house-tops. But it did curve, most palpably! Moreover, it settled into Sidney’s outstretched bare hands with such speed that Sidney, not prepared, promptly dropped it and shook a stinging palm. “Where’d you get on to that?” he inquired in surprise. “That was a peach of an out! Here, give me another.” And Sidney trotted to the fence. “Toss me your mitt.” Pleasurably surprised, Tom walked down to the trampled spot where Sidney had stood and tried again. He tried many more times, in fact, and all to no purpose. The ball went swiftly enough, but it went perfectly straight, and all Tom’s efforts to make it repeat its former erratic flight were in vain. “That’s funny, isn’t it?” he asked breathlessly at last. “It curved before all right. You saw it, didn’t you? Why doesn’t it do it now, Sid?” “Oh, you probably don’t hold it the same way. Try again.” Tom tried until he was out of breath and every muscle in his arm ached, and all to no purpose except to amuse Sidney. By that time it was too dark to see well and he gave it up for the time. When Sidney joined him he was frowning accusingly at the ball. “I’ll make you do it again,” muttered Tom, “if I have to keep at it all summer. You just see if I don’t!” CHAPTER IX TOM WANTS TO KNOW