There was a gleam in Shultz’s eyes; a smile broke over his face; he thrust out his hand for Osgood to take. “I get you, Ned,” he returned, his voice vibrant with deep earnestness. “You’re right; that’s just what we’ll do, as long as we’re to be given the chance. And say, I’m mighty glad to have the chance.” * * * * * When Shultz returned to the academy on crutches several days later, he was immediately surrounded by a crowd of boys who welcomed him back in no uncertain manner. First among those to hail him and shake his hand was Roy Hooker, and he was followed closely by Jack Nelson. Billy Piper was not among the last to grip Charley’s fingers, and there was no uncertain sincerity in his tone, as he said: “Shultzie, you’re all right. You proved it. Say, it’s just ripping to have you back.” “Old man,” said Nelson, “you want to get that ankle cured as soon as you can. The nine is crippling along without you, but I tell you we miss you out there in center field.” “That’s right,” said Chub Tuttle, gulping down a mouthful of half-chewed peanuts. “It’s a rotten shame, the mess I make of it trying to cover that patch. I lost the game last Saturday by muffing a ball you could have caught without half trying.” Grant, Crane, Stone and others all had a cheerful word for Charley, and while they were expressing themselves, Professor Richardson came pushing gently through the throng and clapped both his hands on the abashed boy’s shoulders. “Well, well,” said the principal, beaming, “here you are again. That’s fine, I declare. You ought to be able to throw away those crutches in a few days. Do you know, I actually attended the last baseball game, and, on my word, I found it very interesting. I believe I’ve been missing something, and when it is possible I think I shall take the games in hereafter.” Was this the “old fogy back number” Shultz had so often sneered about and derided? Why, instead of being sour and crabbed, this man was genial and gentle and sympathetic. Charley wondered how he had ever happened to misjudge the professor so greatly. The boy felt his heart swelling with the gladness and camaraderie of it all, and to keep the mist out of his eyes, he laughed, a genuine, sincere, happy laugh, amazingly unlike his laughter of former days. He was a lucky fellow; oh, yes, he knew it very well. He was different; he knew that, too, and he would never again be as he had been once, thank goodness. When Osgood got a chance to speak to Shultz unheard by others, he laughingly said: “I told you how it would be. Now you’ve seen for yourself, and you ought to be satisfied.” “Satisfied?” said Charley. “That word doesn’t express my feelings, Ned, and I don’t believe there’s a word in the language that can express them.”