Hal himself as he was carried from the field by Hans, thought it was his own fault standing on second base as he did with the ball in his hands, instead of running up the line out of the path of the runner and touching him out before he got to the bag. Hal blamed no one but himself, but Hans, while he said nothing, had seen the look in Crossley’s eye as he started for second, and had watched him all the way. He had noted particularly the viciousness of Crossley’s jump and the care with which he brought his feet down on the right spot and while he knew of no reason why Crossley should have it in for Hal, he knew there was something back of it. Hal’s foot was pretty badly cut, but the doctor fixed him up, sent him home in a carriage and told him he’d better not put his uniform on for three or four days. He was out next day with a cane, and his foot did not hurt him particularly. He went to the ball grounds and watched the boys practice and he got to thinking that he hadn’t counted on being injured. He had been spiked before, however, and he felt that with proper care he would be back in the game again soon, and not knowing that he had an enemy, he had no reason for not feeling good. [Illustration: “He was out next day with a cane.”] CHAPTER VIII BAD NEWS FROM HOME AND FLIGHT Hal, in fact, was feeling very good about this time. The winter’s cold had given way to the rare warmth of the Eastern spring. The grass was green, the trees were in leaf, the sun was just right--not too warm--like his own balmy California. He was making friends among the students, his prospects of getting into some of the big games were very good--he was happy. He had a good chum in Hagner, whose more extended experience with the hard knocks of the world had made him wise for his age, and he was a good adviser for Hal. You see Hagner had worked for everything he had gotten in the world. He couldn’t remember when he didn’t work. When he was going to Grammar School he sold papers at night and Saturdays. In the mornings he had to get up early and deliver milk to the few people who could be induced to patronize the Hagner dairy which consisted of two cows only--and whose entire output didn’t warrant a wagon or bottles--so Hans delivered the milk in tin pails. One summer he worked in a barber shop, because that was the only thing that he could find to do around the little town where he lived. When he got into High School he gave up the milk and paper business to a younger brother and spent his time clerking in a grocery store every evening and on Saturdays, and made enough money that way, so that his parents were content to let him follow out his ambition to secure an education.