The crisp crack of a bat suddenly attracted his attention. Then he caught sight of the ball describing a long, graceful curve. He watched the sphere flashing against the blue sky until it had reached such a height as to appear but the merest speck, and then as it swiftly dropped and was plucked from space by a slender boy in the outfield. "Good catch for Charlie Blake," exclaimed Roycroft. "And there was some class to the hit, too," commented Nat. "I don't think any of the Rambler fellows swung the stick on that one. Whoever he is, I wouldn't mind having him on my team." "Humph! Don't you recognize that chap? It's Joe Rodgers." "Gee whiz! The young fellow the Ramblers brought back with 'em on their motor car trip last fall?" "Exactly!" laughed Earl. "Dave Brandon has been looking out for Joe, and got him a job on Mr. Miles' farm. He goes to school every day with a lot of little chaps about half his age. But Mr. Miles says, from the way Joe's learning, he'll soon put all us high school fellows in the has-been class. Come on, Nat. I want to get a whack at that ball myself." Nat Wingate eased himself off the fence, flecked a few spots of dust from his clothes, and followed the big form of Earl Roycroft. "My crowd is going to get the first whack at the Rambler Club's ball nine, Roy," he exclaimed. A peculiarly sarcastic expression came over his face as Roy flung back: "Cut that out, Nat. You mean the school team." "Last season we trimmed the Goose Hill bunch," went on Wingate. "You know what a husky lot they are. Tony Tippen was in the box for us. If any of the scouts from the big leagues ever get to this burg I shouldn't wonder a bit if they'd snap him up." "I'd be satisfied with the minors," laughed Earl. "Whew! The air is kind of chilly to-day, Nat. Roger Steele didn't think he'd have the boys practicing outside of the gym until next week. Great Scott, but that fellow can sprint!" "Wonder if he learned the trick by having wildcats chase him out of the woods," laughed Nat. "Ha, ha! We met one once. John Hackett and our crowd ran across the Ramblers on their first trip, and----" A salvo of cheers suddenly interrupted his sentence, and upon looking up to see the cause of it the captain of the Kingswood Stars saw a stout, round-faced boy advancing leisurely to the home plate. "Ha, ha! We're going to see the new editor of the high school 'Reflector' in action. Did you read the last copy of that sheet, Earl?" Roycroft nodded. "Sure thing, Nat. Dave has written a history of the Rambler Club. The first instalment appears in the 'Reflector's' next issue. Guess there isn't a fellow in the school who won't dive into his pocket for a nickel. Hello, Spearman!" A boy almost as tall as himself, but of a lighter build, stepped from among a crowd of noisy students and walked toward them. Harry Spearman had prominent aquiline features and a manner which suggested a nervous, high-strung disposition.