This was a very important matter to decide in such a simple way, as the team securing the choice of location for this game also secured sixty per cent of the gate receipts after the expenses were paid, the money all going of course to the athletic fund. You would think that this arrangement and the attractive feature of the gate money would cause the boys to try to break even on the first two games every year, but the fact that this was only the second time in twenty years that it occurred goes to show how square the games were. When they came to toss the coin this time Hughie called, “Heads,” and heads it was. He promptly said, “We will play it at the Polo Grounds in New York,” and Mr. Williams, the treasurer of the university, immediately arranged the matter by telegraph. This suited both teams very well. They would break training immediately after the game and the long strain would be over, whichever team won the final game. The game would be played on Thursday, and they could take Friday, Saturday, and Sunday to have a look at the big city, and victors and losers would be royally entertained by the alumni of both colleges who lived there. So they arranged for the reception of the team’s return to take place on the following Monday evening and everybody hoped and believed they would come back as champions again. The Jefferson team meantime were hailed as friends and were given morning practice privileges on Lowell field and treated right royally so far as the training rules would permit. They got very well acquainted during the four or five days they spent together, and the old timers on both the teams regaled the youngsters with tales of the thrilling plays that had occurred between Jefferson and Lowell teams of the past. Most of them had been told many times at each school, but repeated under such conditions were doubly interesting. During one of these fanning bees the talk as usual turned to famous fielding stunts, and many stories were again told of famous fielders and the baseball instinct. “I think the greatest fielder who seemed to have this instinct,” said La Joy, “was Hugh Duff. I have seen him a score of times out in our sun field catch the ball by instinct after losing it in the sun. Where another fielder would dodge and turn his back, Duff would just stick his hands up and catch it. He himself said often that he didn’t know how he did it.”