Both Mr. Milburn and Mr. Slattery, the trainer, caught the balls as they were returned to them from the fielders, and now and then one got away from them. Presently a ball thrown to the trainer went wide and rolled nearly to the fence at the entrance. Being nearer than Mr. Slattery, Wayne went after it and tossed it back. The trainer accepted it without comment, swung his bat and sent it flying out into the field again. When it came in again, however, it passed well out of the trainer’s reach and that individual, turning with an exclamation of disgust, saw it, to his surprise, bound into the hands of Wayne. Unseen of the trainer, Wayne had signalled to the fielder with upraised hand. Mr. Slattery grunted, accepted the ball and sent it sailing forth again. After that it was Wayne who caught the throw-in each time, taking it on the bound, and who tossed it lightly to the batter. The latter accepted the service silently, doubtless glad to have it performed for him and not troubling about the performer’s identity. But, looking across to the plate once, Wayne found Manager Milburn observing him curiously, perhaps wondering where he had seen him before. That the manager did not remember him seemed evident a few minutes later when the players were called in and someone reported that the second base bag had broken away. Mr. Milburn called to the trainer. “Jimmy, send in and get a new strap for the second base bag,” he directed. “Jones says it’s broken.” And when Jimmy Slattery turned to waddle back to the dressing-room he added: “Send your helper, Jimmy, and you take them over to the nets.” “This feller?” asked Jimmy viewing Wayne doubtfully. “You know where they are?” he inquired. “I’ll find them, sir,” said Wayne. “Well, get one, then, like a good feller,” said Jimmy, “and slip it on the second bag.”