And yet to win under the circumstances seemed more than the school had a right to expect. There had never been a poor nine in Hillbury since school nines began to be. This year the blue team was largely veteran, with the identical pitcher who had last year mown down the Seaton hitters as a well-aimed bowling ball clears away the pins from their triangle. The scores of the nines which had played with the two school teams compared unfavorably for Poole's team. Patterson, a mere green apprentice, was a wholly uncertain quantity. Such considerations fairly weighed gave little promise to the Seatonians; but in the Seaton breast hope springs eternal, and a game may always be won until it is actually lost. A week before the game, the whole school journeyed to Hillbury for the track meet. Before the contests both sides had counted probabilities. According to Seaton reckoning, if Rohrer beat Royce in the high hurdles, and Benton won the half mile, and Laughlin and Lindsay took seven out of eight points in the shot-put, Seaton would have twelve points to spare. By Hillbury count, only accidents could keep the blue from beating the red by at least twenty. Each side regarded the results as ominous for the more important contest of the following Saturday. And that was why Seaton took the defeat so to heart. Rohrer did beat Royce in the hurdles, and Laughlin and Lindsay won their seven points; but there were unexpected offsets, and Benton did not even get a place in the half-mile. Six points is not a bad defeat, but any defeat is bad when you expect victory. If omens counted, the ball game was as good as lost. But Owen's hopes never wavered. He had seen hard games before, games which he had won and games which he had lost; and never had he felt such a spirit of keenness and unity as animated this raw Seaton nine. If Hillbury beat them, Hillbury must play good ball, far better ball than any team which had come that season to Seaton. If only Patterson kept up! On the Friday before the great day, as the decorations were blossoming out on the houses, and in recitations the game was crowding the lesson matter hard for possession of the minds of the pupils, Poole and Owen were hailed from across the street by Wally. "Hello, Wally," called Poole, "come over here!" The boy hastened across. "Could you get us the seats?" asked Wally. "Only two," said Poole, "and you'll have to let your father and sister have those." Wally's countenance fell. "But as you helped me out of a scrape once, I'm going to pay you back. I'm going to let you have a seat on the players' bench." "On the players' bench!" cried the delighted lad. "Great Scott! do you mean it?" Poole laughed and nodded. "You've got to bring us luck," said Owen. "Oh, I will," returned the boy, "but you don't need it. You're going to win anyway. I've got my red fire all ready." "I wish I felt as he does," said Poole, as the boy scampered across the street to inform his friends of his good fortune.