Owen sniffed. "You fellows had better join Dr. Norton's Bible class, and learn something." He took down a Bible from his bookcase and fluttered the leaves to the chapters in Exodus in which the plagues are described. "The first was turning the river into blood, so that the fish died, the second frogs, the third lice, the fourth flies, the fifth--" "Oh, ring off!" shouted the impatient Donald. "Don't harrow our feelings with all that. How many were there, can't you tell us? or don't you know yourself?" "Ten," answered Rob, curtly, replacing the book. The brothers stared at each other blankly, each seeking comfort and finding none. "You don't really think Payner'd be mean enough to put all those on us, do you?" Duncan asked after an impressive period of silence. "There's a whole menagerie to draw from, if he's cussed enough," growled Donald. "Who was cussed enough to rip up his room?" Rob's visitors sought information, not judicial criticism; but the opportunity was one that he could not resist. "How does he know that we stacked his room?" For the moment Donald was like an unfortunate victim of circumstances pleading "not guilty" to a false charge. "How do you know that he is sending the plagues?" Owen replied quietly. "He's got you there, Don," said Duncan. "We're up against it all right. There's no use trying to squirm." "Who's trying to squirm?" retorted Donald. "Let him bring on his plagues--a bunch of mummies if he wants to. He won't feaze me." With this the pair departed to continue their analysis of the situation in their own quarters, and later to endeavor to sell the guinea pigs to a drug-store man to display in his window. CHAPTER X MR. CARLE WANTS TO KNOW The winter was wearing away. The third battery was plodding steadily along at its task in the cage, with few critical spectators and almost no interference from superiors. A more eager, trusting pupil than Patterson no teacher ever had. So ready was the pitcher to take the suggestion of his catcher as a maxim, that Rob had to set a watch upon himself, that he might not overload the docile learner with useless or questionable directions. He kept to a simple system of coaching, told Patterson nothing of which he was not himself sure, trusted him to throw his curves in his own way, but held him inexorably to accuracy. Owen never would allow practice to begin unless with plate in position and pitcher's distance well marked; he made his pitcher warm up thoroughly before he began with curves; he would not permit a pitch without a distinct understanding as to what the ball was to be.