“No use,” he explained to Walter as they walked in together. “The fellow either can’t or won’t see. I’ll just give them easy ones and let them go.” “No; don’t do that. Chesty will see after a bit,” protested Walter. But Dan was perverse and for several innings pitched a slower ball which occasionally was hit, though most of the boys that faced him struck out. “I don’t know,” said Ned to Walter, after an hour had elapsed. “He has speed if he lets himself out, but he’s as wild as a hawk. Doesn’t seem to know just where the plate is or what it is for.” “Dan says Chesty can’t or won’t see.” “Here come the fellows from the football field,” said Ned quickly, as the eleven were seen approaching on their way to the dressing-room. “I’m going to ask Gus Kiggins and some of the fellows to come in and bat. There’s Samson too,” he added. “I’ll have him call strikes and balls. We’ll see now what we’ll see.” In response to Ned’s call four of the boys stopped and acting upon Ned’s suggestion quickly agreed to face Dan. The physical instructor good-naturedly agreed to decide as to the balls and strikes and took a position behind Ned. The scrub game had served to “warm up” Dan and, as Walter keenly watched him, more eager than he would have acknowledged to have his words of praise proved true, he smiled as he noticed that Dan settled back in a way he recognized and understood. Whenever Dan had his present expression Walter had no fear. Hodge, the heavy right tackle on the football team and the heaviest hitter on the school nine, smilingly grasped a bat and faced the pitcher. Gathering himself together Hodge struck at the first ball Dan sent in, but his bat failed to reach the elusive little sphere and he joined in the laugh that greeted his efforts. “Look out, Hodge,” called Gus Kiggins. “It’ll come back and hit you!” His tones were bantering and it was plain that he was not looking upon the work of the new boy in any serious way. Again Dan sent in the ball, this time even swifter than before, but as it reached the plate it suddenly seemed to rise in the air and Hodge struck several inches beneath it. An expression of surprise, almost of chagrin, appeared upon the face of the tall player and as he looked again at Dan there was an added element of interest in his expression. Once more the pitcher turned himself about and Hodge braced himself for even a swifter ball, but in spite of Dan’s contortions the ball slowly rose and Hodge had struck at it long before it had crossed the plate. “You’re out!” called Samson sharply to the batter, though he was looking keenly at Dan as he spoke. “Come on, Smith. Try your luck,” said Hodge to one of the other boys who was standing with a bat in his hand awaiting his turn.