“Yes, I know how it is,” and he spoke bitterly. “I’d be of no use in the box. Well, I s’pose there’s no help for it,” and Bill picked up a round stone, and threw it at a telegraph pole. He missed it by a foot, though usually he was a good shot. He laughed mirthlessly, and turning to Cap said: “See how it is?” “Oh, well, don’t take it so hard. That was a nasty blow you got, and the effects may be a long time wearing away. But I’m sure you’ll be all right next season, if you’re not this.” “But a whole season off the diamond!” gasped Bill in dismay. “Oh, you don’t need to get off. Maybe Windam will play you in the outfield. You can catch; can’t you?” “Yes, but I want to be in the box. However if I can’t—I can’t,” and seeing that he was causing Cap pain by his manner, Bill tried to assume a more cheerful air. “Graydon will be cut up over it,” said the elder lad, referring to the player whose batted ball had been responsible for Bill’s mishap. “It wasn’t his fault,” declared the pitcher. “I ought to have known better than to try to stop it at such close range. It was going like a bullet. I should have passed it.” “You couldn’t—and be a Smith boy,” exclaimed Cap with a laugh. “We’d take a chance on anything in the shape of a ball, I guess.” “Well, I’ll go back in a couple of days, and get the reading glasses, and maybe they’ll help some,” decided Bill, as they walked on. They were nearing the college, the many buildings of which could be seen in the distance above the trees, the red tiled roofs making a pretty picture seen through the green foliage. “Hello, something’s going on!” exclaimed Cap, as they swung into the main road that led up to the grounds. “Look at the crowd.” “Baseball game?” suggested Bill. “No, they’re away this side of the diamond. There’s some sort of a wagon there—a Gypsy van, I guess. Maybe some of the fellows are having their fortunes told. Come on, we’ll get in the game, and have some fun.” “Maybe it’s an ambulance, and some one is hurt.” “Get out! They don’t have ambulances around here.” The brothers increased their pace, and as they neared the vehicle something vaguely familiar about it attracted the attention of Bill and Cap. They looked at each other. “It can’t be him!” exclaimed Bill. “It looks like his rig, though,” assented Cap. “But it’s painted a different color. I wonder—?” “Hark!” cautioned his brother. They were close to the throng of students now, but could only see the top of the wagon, which was a covered one. A voice could be heard droning away like this: “Young gentlemen, it is one of the greatest pleasures of my life to speak to students—to persons of learning, in which class I am so fortunate as to count myself, though in an humble capacity. Learning, I may say, extends even to the noble steed which draws my equipage, whose cognomen is, I may say derived from—” “That’s all right, old sport, what’s the horse called?” demanded one of the students, with a laugh.