“Some water!” cried Graydon, and they brought the pail. Pete and Cap hastened up, as did Mr. Windam. “Now don’t cut off all the air,” said the coach. “Harris, perhaps you’d better ask Dr. Blasdell to step down,” there being a physician on the school’s staff of teachers. But Bill opened his eyes as the cold water trickled down his face, and murmured: “I’m—I’m all right. I’m not hurt—just a little dizzy.” “Take it easy, old man,” advised the coach. “A little more water. Here, Snyder, mix a little of that aromatic spirits of ammonia. You’ll find the bottle in my valise,” for Mr. Windam kept a few simple remedies in readiness for first aid to the injured. Soon Bill was much better, and there was no need for the services of Dr. Blasdell, who came hurrying down at the summons. He found that there was no apparent injury to Bill’s skull, and the plucky pitcher wanted to go on with the game, but they would not hear of it, and put another man in, while our hero was taken to his room to lie down. The Varsity won the game, but took little credit for it, and when the contest was over there were many inquiries for Bill. “Well, how do you feel?” asked Pete the next day, as his brother got up and looked in the glass at the strip of plaster over the big bump, for the skin was broken. “I feel as though I tried to stop a taxicab with my head. Dizzy, you know. But I guess it will pass over.” He felt much better as the day passed, and wanted to get into practice that afternoon, but the coach would not let him. However, on the following afternoon, Bill insisted so strenuously that he was allowed to get into a uniform, and take his place on the diamond. There was no game, but he and Cap did some work together. The first few balls Bill pitched went a bit wild, and his brother did not pay much attention to them, but when, after he had delivered about the seventh one, and it went wide of the plate, Cap called: “Get ’em over, Bill. They’re a bit too far out.” “Too wide! What’s the matter? That cut off as big a corner of the plate as you’d want.” “What? It was four inches out.” “Nonsense!” exclaimed Bill. “You can’t see straight. Here, how’s this?” The ball shot from his hand, but Bill had to step some distance out to gather it into his big mitt. “Worser and worser,” he said with a smile. “Guess your vacation didn’t do you any good.” “Say, what’s the matter?” demanded Bill somewhat peevishly. “I’m getting those over all right.” “Then there’s something the matter with your eyes,” declared his brother seriously, and he looked anxiously at the younger lad. “Watch this!” called Bill. He threw very carefully but he seemed to lose control of the ball, which ability was one of his best features. It again went wide, and Cap had to reach out for the sphere. The catcher shook his head.