"More than I know. Let's see if we can find him." But though they searched diligently, Bronson was nowhere to be found, and it was not until the candidates had assembled at the cage that the puzzle was solved. Just as Hal was ready to assign the players to their workouts, Bronson, clad in a natty blue uniform, approached the captain. Instantly all the other boys gathered around. "With your permission, Mr. Church, I should like to try for pitcher," said Bronson, flushing under the gaze of the other candidates. A gasp of amazement ran through the crowd at these words, and many were the whispered comments. "Ever played?" asked Hal, trying to conceal his surprise. "Two years." "Where?" "I pitched at Hodgson's Military School." "Are _you_ the Bronson who never lost a game for his team?" exclaimed the captain, hope mingled with his astonishment. "Yes; but it was the support I received that enabled me to establish such a record," rejoined the boy. "Hooray! We don't need Bart!" yelled Buttons joyously, while the other boys slapped one another on the back, and jumped and capered in their delight at the discovery of so classy a pitcher in the form of the tall, awkward Second. Hal was as pleased as the rest, but believing it not in keeping with his dignity as captain to show his feelings, he took out the book in which he had listed the names of the candidates and added Bronson's. "Go into the box and pitch a few balls to Gregory, who'll do the major part of our catching," commanded Hal, as he finished writing. "The rest of you practice fielding. Lefty, you knock them grounders." But though the boys all obediently took positions, they simply stood in their places watching the new pitcher. Conscious of the scrutiny, Bronson showed no signs of being rattled, and with cool deliberation threw a half dozen balls which showed that he had curves and speed. "Great stuff!" whispered Sandow, who was standing with Hal behind the pitching find. "Wonder if he's hard to hit?" "We'll soon know," returned the captain. "Wait a minute, Bronson; I want you to pitch a few with Sandow at the plate." When the others heard the words, they grinned expectantly, for the leader of the Firsts was the hardest hitter in the school. "Will you call strikes and balls?" asked Bronson, turning to Hal. "Why, yes; if you like." "All right; I wish you would." And while Sandow settled himself at the plate, Bronson turned his back and worked his fingers round the ball. Believing in his heart that Hal would send for him, Bart had hung about the building. But as he heard the shouts, his curiosity got the better of his sulking, and he hastened to learn their cause, arriving just as Sandow made ready to bat. With none of the spectacular "wind-ups," of which Bart was so fond, Bronson secured a sound footing, drew back his arm, took a quick swing, and released the ball.