The greetings which we received were kind and considerate. Fellows took pains to make us feel the humiliation as little as possible. Early Monday morning I met Clinton Edwards, and his first words, as he shook hands with me, were, “Harry, you played a fine game――steady and true right through to the end. I am very sorry you had such hard luck. It was no fault of yours, nor the others in fact, except Fred Harrison, that we didn’t win.” And this was the general expression of feeling on every hand, no one showing the least disposition to find fault with the team, but all ready to attribute the result to ill fortune, and to extend their sympathy. Even poor Fred Harrison came in for as much pity as condemnation for his foolish act. The disposition on the part of the college put new spirit into us, and renewed our purpose to go in and regain our lost ground. That we could entirely recover ourselves and win the Crimson Banner of course seemed next to impossible, but we pinned our hope to the game with the Park men. Should we be able to defeat them, we would feel largely compensated even for the loss of the championship. I shared Ray’s opinion that our chances of defeating Park College were very fair, for I felt confident that our team in its altered form, with Percy Randall on third base, would do fine work, and such rumors as had come from Berkeley had not reported very favorably on the Park nine. I did not, however, rely too much on these rumors, for it had been a favorite dodge of the Park men to start reports of their condition, in order to deceive and mislead their opponents. Of the truth concerning their nine we could learn more after the following Wednesday, when the Park and the Halford teams played together. Ray Wendell determined to go over to see this game in order to obtain points that it might be to our advantage to know. I could not accompany him, for I had a recitation on that day, but Clinton Edwards agreed to go over, and upon his and Ray’s experienced judgment we could rely for a proper estimate of the abilities of our opponents. Fred Harrison improved rapidly, but was compelled to carry his arm in a sling for some time, and was forbidden by the doctor to play ball again during the spring, so that Ray was relieved of all difficulty in disposing of him. Fred was heartily ashamed of himself, and for a long time after the game could not bear to speak of the matter. The fellows, knowing well how mortified and humiliated he was, were careful to treat him with as much consideration as possible, and no thoughtless or unkind word from them ever reminded him of that unfortunate day at Dean. What brought mortification to Fred, however, made Percy Randall happy. The latter had been disappointed in missing a position on the nine in the first place, and the change which unexpectedly brought him a place delighted him.