Their chance came the next day, when a crowd of the players were returning from the ball field after a practice game. “Tag, you’re it!” suddenly cried North to Mersfeld, and he began circling about Bill, Pete and Cap, who were walking with Whistle-Breeches. “Oh, cut it out!” cried Mersfeld, as if in objection, and he tripped North up. The latter in falling made a grab for Bill, as if to save himself, and in an instant the two went down in a heap and there was a laughing, struggling crowd of youths rolling over the grass in what was apparently a friendly scrimmage. CHAPTER XXVIII THE GLASSES ARE GONE “Here get up off me, can’t you?” demanded Bill, as he found himself under North’s no light weight. The latter had his arms around the pitcher. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?” asked the bully with elaborate politeness as he helped Bill to his feet. “No, but I don’t want my nose rubbed in the dirt. It might spoil the shape.” “That’s right. Wait until I get hold of Mersfeld. It was his fault.” North scurried off, pretending to be in pursuit of his crony, while Cap, Pete and Whistle-Breeches, who had gone down in the melee were fighting off several of their chums who, seeing the prostrate group, had, boy fashion, thrown themselves on top, a-la-football practice. “Oh, say, this is too much!” gasped Cap, as he tossed Bob Chapin to one side. “Yes, who started this, anyhow?” demanded Pete, digging some grass out of his left ear. The skirmishing and fun were general now, and no one seemed to remember that Mersfeld and North had been the storm centre. The two were far enough away, over the campus by this time. “Well, did you get ’em?” asked Mersfeld nervously, as he looked back at the throng of lads who had ceased their struggles and were brushing what they could of the dirt off their clothes. “I sure did,” was the answer. “Look,” and he showed him a small black case, which, on being opened, disclosed the peculiar glasses that Bill wore when he pitched. “Good!” exclaimed the deposed pitcher. “Now what’ll we do with ’em?” “Here, you take ’em,” and North held them out. “Not much!” came the quick answer. “Why not?” “Think I want to be caught with them on me?” “Well, I don’t want ’em either. Shall I throw ’em away?” and he made a half-motion toward a clump of bushes. “No, some one might find ’em, and give ’em back, and then we’d be as badly off as before. Here, I’ll tell you what to do. Toss ’em into that old cannon,” and Mersfeld pointed to one on the far edge of the campus. It was a Spanish war trophy, loaned by the government. “No one will ever think of looking there for ’em.” With a quick motion North slid the case of spectacles down the muzzle. Then the two quickly kept on their way. Bill and his friends proceeded to the gymnasium, where the players indulged in a shower bath, and, a little later the three brothers were in Cap’s room, talking over baseball matters in particular, and everything in general.