It was late when the boys arrived at the place they were seeking and their coming was announced by Walter’s shouts. When his grandfather came out of the house to greet the young fishermen the huge pickerel was displayed and the quiet comments of his grandfather were highly pleasing to the elated Walter. As he turned to say good night to his companion he again referred to the game of the morrow. “Don’t you be anxious, Dan. You start in with your pitching and just remember that if the Benson nine finds your curves you can rely on me to help you out.” “That’s all right, Walter,” replied Dan quietly. “The game is at three?” “Yes.” “I’ll be over on time.” “Good night.” “Good night, Dan,” responded Walter as he entered the house. * * * * * Long before the time of the game on the following day Walter was on the field. Dressed in the uniform of his school nine, he was aware of the contrast between his neat, well-fitting suit and the quaint uniforms of the players who were on the ground. A smile of satisfaction and a slight deepening of his condescending manner were perhaps not unnatural in view of the appearance of the two nines. On each there were two or three who had no uniforms at all. “Goin’ to play with our nine?” Walter turned as the question was asked, and found himself face to face with Si Slater, the village harness-maker. Si’s round face was glowing with interest and his fat body was perspiring in spite of his continued fanning with his straw hat of broad brim. “Yes, I thought I would help the fellows out,” replied Walter, with a laugh. “All right. Ye’ll have t’ go some t’ keep up with Dan an’ Tom Richards. They’re the best ball players in the whole county.” “Are they?” “You’re right they be. I’ve seen Dan knock a ball ’most forty rod.” “I hope he’ll do it this afternoon.” “He will if he gets half a chance. I guess maybe you’ve played ball before, from th’ looks o’ those clothes ye’re wearin’.” “Yes. I am on the school nine.” “Ye don’t say! Well, do your prettiest! We don’t want them Benson chaps to go home crowin’ over us.” “We’ll try not to let them do that.” “Hi! Look at that, will ye!” shouted the harness-maker as he slapped his hands on his fat thighs and pointed to a ball which Dan, who was batting flies for his fielders, had sent far over the heads of the scattered field. “I’ve wondered a heap o’ times why the New Yorks didn’t send up here for Dan. I guess he could give ’em all some points on the game!” “Have you ever seen the New Yorks play?” “No; I can’t say ’t I have. I was talkin’ t’ Dan a spell ago an’ I suggested that he should send word for ’em t’ come up here and have a game. I guess they’d open their eyes when they see Tom and Dan.” “What did Dan say?” inquired Walter quizzically. “Nothin’. He isn’t much o’ a talker, Dan isn’t.” “I shall be interested to-day in watching him.”