"Newspapers are published for the purpose of giving information," Dick explained. "If a newspaper's writers all wrote just to please themselves and their friends, how many people do you suppose would buy the daily papers? Fred Ripley is the most prominent box candidate we have. He towers away over the rest of us. That was why I so stated it in 'The Blade.'" "And I guess that's the only right way to do things when you're writing for the papers," agreed Darrin. "It's a pity you can't print some other things about Ripley that you know to be true," grumbled Hazelton. "True," agreed Dick, thoughtfully. "I'm only a green, amateur reporter, but I've already learned that a reporter soon knows more than he can print." Prescott was thinking of the meeting he had witnessed, the night before, between Fred and Tip. After sleeping on the question for the night, Dick had decided that he would say nothing of the matter, for the present, either to the elder or the younger Ripley. "If Fred found out that I knew all about it, he'd be sure that I was biding my time," was what Dick had concluded. "He'd be sure that I was only waiting for the best chance to expose him. On the other hand, if I cautioned his father, there'd be an awful row at the Ripley home. Either way, Fred Ripley would go to pieces. He'd lose what little nerve he ever had. After that he'd be no good at pitching. He'd go plumb to pieces. That might leave me the chance to be Gridley's crack pitcher this year. Oh, I'd like to be the leading pitcher of the High School nine! But I don't want to win the honor in any way that I'm not positive is wholly square and honorable." Then, after a few moments more of thought: "Besides, I'm loyal to good old Gridley High School. I want to see our nine have the best pitcher it can get---no matter who he is!" By some it might be argued that Dick Prescott was under a moral obligation to go and caution Lawyer Ripley. But Dick hated talebearers. He acted up to the best promptings of his own best conscience, which is all any honorable man can do. CHAPTER XII TRYING OUT THE PITCHERS "Oh, you Rip!" "Good boy, Rip!" "You're the winning piece of leather, Rip!" "Get after him, Dick!" "Wait till you see Prescott!" "And don't you forget Dave Darrin, either!" Late in March, it was the biggest day of Spring out at the High School Athletic Field. This field, the fruit of the labors of the Alumni Association for many years, was a model one even in the best of High School towns. The field, some six acres in extent, lay well outside the city proper. It was a walled field, laid out for football, baseball, cricket and field and track sports. In order that even the High School girls might have a strong sense of ownership in it, the field also contained two croquet grounds, well laid out. Just now, the whole crowd was gathered at the sides of the diamond. Hundreds were perched up on one of the stands for spectators.