"All who play ball ain't ball players," he remarked. "Great sport, though. Nobody 'ud ever think it, but Mr. Barry's one o' the greatest fans out--yes, sir. Never goes to any of the big cities without taking in a game or two. Latin an' ball playin's his hobbies." The latch clicked sharply as Cassius pulled open the big bronze gate. "Good luck, boys. I sure hope you'll win the grounds," he said, as his swinging lantern began to cut a pathway of yellow light down the zigzag stone steps. Once on the street, Coach Steele and Bob Somers watched his form slowly remounting, to disappear behind the first turn, leaving only erratic spots of light flitting from place to place on coping or shrubbery. "Some visit, that!" laughed Roger. "Still there's a rugged honesty about the man I like." "Eight forty-five P. M. 'Coach Steele discovers there's a rugged honesty about the man he likes.' I'll make a note of that." A slight boy suddenly emerged from the deep shadow of a tree-box a few paces distant, and, as he advanced into the cold glare of an electric light, its rays revealed the grinning face of Benny Wilkins. CHAPTER X THE "FEARLESS" ARRIVES "Well I declare! What in thunder are you doing here, Benny Wilkins?" cried Bob Somers, somewhat startled, and not altogether pleased at his unexpected appearance. "Spying," answered Benny, candidly. "There's a rugged honesty about that answer that I like," laughed Steele. "Still, you ought to be at home studying, instead of cavorting around the street at this hour." "Never cavorted in my life," grinned Benny. "What were you doing here?" asked Bob. "Until about sixty seconds ago, hiding behind that tree-box." "Oh, come now, Benny!" "Sure! Which way?" Then Wilkins' manner abruptly changed; a serious expression flitted into his brown eyes. "Say, Bob, what was it all about? Why'd you go to Mr. Barry's?" His hand fell on the captain's wrist. "Tell me. I can hardly wait. Did he sit on you hard?" "Not so hard as to make us feel soft," grinned Bob. "Now, Benny, before I say another word----" "All right! I know what you mean. This is the way it happened. I live close by here, you know, and I was standing at the front gate, chinning to a couple of fellows, when I saw you and Roger walk by on the opposite side of the street. When they left, a few moments later, I chased after you, and was just about catching up, when--Gee Whitaker! Astonishment still fills me--you turned into Mr. Rupert Barry's. 'Something's in the wind to make those chaps climb such a flight of steps,' I said to myself. So it was me for the lying-in-wait act until you trotted out, ready to give explanations. Ha, ha! Say--you fellows looked awful glad to see me. Now fire away, Bob." "I must refer you to Mr. Rupert Barry," returned Bob, smilingly.