"Say, Jack," he asked, "what's the longest period of time you can think of?" "I don't know," answered Jack soberly. "What's the answer?" "One year," was the glum reply. CHAPTER XVIII ON FOX ISLAND Spring came suddenly that year. They woke up one morning to find the river flowing warmly blue and free of ice, the walks running with crystal water and the bricks steaming in the fervid sunshine. Winter had disappeared over night and Spring had come to its own again. With the awakening of the new season came the awakening of new interests. The crew candidates, who for weeks past had been toiling ingloriously at the rowing machines in the basement of the gymnasium, went trooping down the path to the river and launched their shells. The baseball candidates who had been throwing and batting in the cage and sliding to bases over the hard floor trotted out to the field in search of a dry spot whereon to hold their first outdoor practice. With the former went Horace Burlen, free at last, in spite of his enemies' croakings, of all conditions, and Hadden and Gallup and Whitcomb and Otto Ferris and others. With the baseball candidates went Chub, Roy, Bacon, Kirby, Post and many more. And--oh, yes--Sid Welch! Sid had entertained hopes of making the second crew, but such hopes had been sadly shattered. And as Sid had to be trying for something to be content he naturally went in for the only first-class sport left. "I think," he confided to Chub, "I think I'd like to play shortstop." "Just as you say, Sid," Chub answered gravely. "All you'll have to do will be to beat Bacon out for the position. You're sure you wouldn't rather pitch? Post and Kirby, you know, aren't so much of a muchness but what you could beat 'em with a little practice." "Well, anyhow, I don't see why I couldn't be a fielder," answered Sid good-naturedly. "You'll give me a show, won't you, Chub?" "Course I will, Sid," answered Chub heartily. "You come along out and we'll see what you can do. First of all, though, we'll take a little of that fat off you." "I've been trying to get rid of it," Sid replied earnestly and sadly, "but it doesn't seem to do any good. I haven't eaten any bread or potato or puddin' for days and days!" "Never mind the bread and potato, Sid," said Chub with a laugh. "I know a better way." "What?" asked the other interestedly. "Chasing flies, my boy!" was the answer. March was kind to them. It gave them a clear two weeks of fair weather at the end. To be sure, the wind howled dismally sometimes and it was often cold enough to make fingers stiff, but it allowed them to stay out of doors and that was the main thing. April, however, started in meanly. Ten days of drizzle and wet fields affected even Chub's temper. But everything, even a spell of rainy weather, must come to an end some time, and the second week of April brought back sunny skies and mild days. And after that affairs went briskly on the diamond.