“Say, this is what I call going to battle in style,” said Lanky Wallace, the tall first baseman, as he shoved alongside Frank on the crowded seat, and threw an arm around the other with the air of a chum. “I was just speculating on how we will return--with shouts and cheers, or dolefully telling each other just how it happened,” remarked Frank; but his smiling face was evidence of the fact that he had little fears on that score as he looked around at the enthusiastic countenances of his comrades. “If your arm’s in prime condition, as you say, I’m not worrying any on that score, Frank. Coddling may be a wonder, just as they claim, but once we get on to his curves there’s going to be some smashing work done. I feel that I’m in for business at the old stand myself, to-day,” returned Lanky, with a positive shake of his head. “Glad to hear you say it. A pitcher needs confidence in the ability of his men to get runs, as well as field like a machine. We’ve just _got_ to do that crowd up to-day, and that’s all there is to it.” “And we will, never fear, Frank,” observed Roderic Seymour, who, leading senior though he was, considered it an honor to serve as captain, and play second with the snappy nine Columbia had put into the field this year. “Are we on time?” demanded Buster Billings, always afraid of getting left, although worrying did not seem to reduce his abundant flesh so that it could be noticed. “Yes, with a margin to spare, if the boat shoves along as she is doing right now,” replied Lanky Wallace. Lanky, of course, covered first, and few balls ever passed through his territory when he was feeling fit. Lef Seller was aboard the boat, since he was a member of the team, though under a cloud temporarily, and forbidden by the faculty from taking part in any baseball game during the season. This severe punishment sprung from his action in playing an unusually mean prank upon Frank, whom he chose to regard as his mortal enemy; and which circumstance, together with many other interesting events, has been set forth in full in the preceding volume of this series, called: “The Boys of Columbia High; or, The All Around Rivals of the School.” Lef tried to join with his mates and appear jolly, but it was a great effort, when his heart was sore on account of being listed as the black sheep of the flock, to be shunned by self-respecting fellows. He had his own followers, who toadied to him on account of the money he spent so freely; but none of them happened to be aboard the boat, so Lef felt that he was in one sense out of his element. The beautiful home town faded out of sight up the river, and all eyes began to be turned toward the bow, as they anticipated catching a distant glimpse of Bellport at any moment.