Not so, however, to his roommate. Poor Sid had to "bone" away rather hard to get along, and, as he was required to put in a certain amount of time on the diamond, his lessons sometimes suffered. He was warned one day by Professor Tines, in the Latin class, that if he did not show more improvement he would be conditioned and not allowed to play on the team. "And that mustn't happen," declared Captain Woodhouse. "Take a brace, Sid. Don't go throwing us down now. It's too late to break in another first baseman." Sid promised, and, for a time, stood better in his class. In the meanwhile other sports went on at Randall College. The crew was out every day on the river and the 'varsity eight-oared shell, several doubles and some singles held impromptu races. A freshman eight was formed and Tom was asked to join, but he wisely refused, for he reasoned that he could not give enough time to it to become a member of a racing crew without sacrificing either baseball or his studies, and he would do neither. "But you'll never make the 'varsity nine," argued Captain Bonsell, of the freshman crew. "Much better to train with us, for I'll promise you a place in the boat when it comes to the championship race. You'll never be the 'varsity pitcher." For Bonsell had looked with envy on Tom's big muscles. "Well, I'm not going to give up until the last game," declared Tom stoutly. "Maybe I'll get a chance at the tail end. Langridge can't last forever, though far be it from me to wish him any bad luck." "I see," spoke Bonsell with a laugh, "the survival of the fittest. I wish you luck, old man." So Tom practiced and practiced and practiced until on the scrub his name became one to conjure with. But Langridge remained in his place on the 'varsity and Evert was the substitute pitcher. Between Tom and Langridge there was more than ever a coldness. It was not due to the sneaking act of the rich lad in not absolving Tom from blame in the wire episode, but might more properly be ascribed to the incident connected with Miss Tyler, though neither youth was willing to admit this. In spite of himself, Tom found that he was entertaining a certain indescribable feeling toward the girl. Often, at night, he would recall her laughing, tantalizing face as she walked away with Langridge. "Hang it all!" Tom would exclaim to his pillow. "He's not fit for her! She ought to know it. I practically told her, yet she went off with him, after all. Confound it all, I can't understand girls, anyhow." But Tom might well have been comforted, for no one else does either, though many believe that they do.