Mr. Adams observed him with curiosity. Here was a childish unreasonableness which he had never before seen in Roger Hardie. “I’ll wait till to-night, then. Isn’t there something Mrs. Adams or I could do to make you more comfortable? Shouldn’t you like something to read, or some one to read to you?” Roger thanked him, but thought he should take a little nap and then perhaps go for a walk. So Mr. Adams was induced to leave, and Roger lay back on his couch, with eyes staring wide open and thoughts pounding hard. He had staved off the doctor for a time at least. As he lay there assuring himself that nothing could be the matter with his heart and that he should certainly be quite well by night, reviling himself for being such a fool as to fall ill on the eve of a race and vowing that he would row anyway, Dunn came softly in on new rubber-soled shoes. He was going to Cambridge to see the Harvard-Princeton game, but before he went he wanted to express his sympathy and offer consolation. Dunn did not use these trite expressions nor did he talk like a phrase book of etiquette, but he meant well and Roger understood him. The consolation took the form of a lurid, six weeks’ novel which Dunn commended as “pretty fair.” An hour with this pretty fair tale of Jason’s lending was about all Roger could stand; he threw it down gladly when Mike appeared to invite him to go out and watch the game between the Weary-Willies and the Easy-Resters which Mike was to umpire. He fared forth, therefore, with Mike, and established himself at the shady end of the players’ bench, prepared to be quietly amused. Dickie Sumner thrust a sheet of paper and a pencil into his hand and bade him keep score. It was a great game and most amusing, but totally devoid of quiet. The Easy-Resters rested not at all, but tore up and down the foul lines, jeering at the battery of their opponents and abusing the umpire. The Weary-Willies answered unweariedly jeer for jeer. When, in the middle of the fifth inning, the E-R’s assaulted Mike, and, sweeping him off the field, dragged Roger out to take his place, the new umpire could not for the life of him determine whether the score stood seven to six in favor of the E-R’s or six to five for the W-W’s. So he left Mike to continue the score after his own fashion, and devoted himself to securing order on the diamond and enforcing his decisions by threats of injury from the baseball bat with which he had armed himself.