"Time enough to win in!" shouted Roy. "Sure!" answered Jack triumphantly. With sticks gyrating they sped back to their positions. But Hammond was in no hurry now and the time-keeper kept his eyes carefully on his stop-watch until finally the whistle shrilled again. Then back to the fray went the brown jerseys and over the ice sped the Ferry Hill skates. A rush down the rink and again the Hammond goal was in danger. A quick swoop of Warren's stick and the puck was

black disk, their bodies crashing against the boards and their sticks flying hither and thither! But Warren came to the rescue, poked the puck out from under the Hammondite's skate and passed it across to Kirby in front of goal. Another try and another stop by the Cherry's goal-tend. And so it went and so went the precious seconds. And then, suddenly, with the puck within a yard of goal once more and Roy's stick raised for a shot, the whistle rang out. "Time 's up!" announced Mr. Cobb. Roy turned fiercely.

"It is, though," was the answer. "That's perfect nonsense!" said Roy hotly. "You said there were two minutes left just a minute ago!"

"That'll do, Porter," said Mr. Cobb coldly. Roy dropped his eyes, swallowed something hard in his throat and examined a cut on his hand. Then, "Beg pardon, sir," he said. "This way fellows! A cheer for Hammond. and make it good!"

Well, it was n't very good. But then you can scarcely blame them when another second would perhaps have tied the score. But they cheered, and Hammond answered it; and the hockey season had ended with a defeat for Ferry Hill. Schonberg skated over to Roy and held out his hand.

"You had us on the run," he said. "If we'd played five minutes longer you'd have won. You've got a slick team, all right! How about next year? You're going to keep the team up, aren't you?"

the basement of the gymnasium, went trooping down the path to the river and launched their shells. The baseball candidates who had been throwing, and batting in the cage and sliding to bases over the hard floor trotted out to the field in search of a dry spot whereon to hold. their first outdoor practice. With the former went Horace Burlen, free at last, in spite of his enemies' croakings, of all conditions, and Hadden and Gallup and Whitcomb and Otto Ferris and others. With the baseball candidates went Chub, Roy, Bacon, Kirby, Post and many more. And oh, yes and Sid Welch ! "I don't see why I could n't be a fielder," exclaimed Sid good-naturedly. "You'll give me a show for an outfield place, won't you, Chub?"

"That I will, Sid," answered Chub heartily. "You come along out and we 'll see what you can do. First of all, though, we'll take a little of that fat off you."

The rival captain laughed good-naturedly. "That's right. We've had a dandy time playing you chaps and we'll be ready again next year. Good-bye."

"Good-bye," answered Roy as graciously as he could. "Glad you fellows came over." He turned and found Jack beside him. "Say, Jack," he asked, "what's the longest period of time you can think of?"

potato or puddin' for days!"

"Never mind the bread and potato, Sid," said Chub with a laugh. "I know a better way." "What?" asked the other interestedly. "Chasing flies, my boy!" was the answer.

Training table was started the middle of April, with Mr. Cobb in command. By that time the candidates had been weeded out until there were but fourteen left. The "culls," as Chub called them, went toward the making up

"One year," was the glum reply.

VOL. XXXIII.— 99.

afternoon save Sunday, usually ending with a short game with the second nine, the latter

strengthened by the presence of Mr. Cobb who played first base or pitched as occasion required. Roy bought a rule-book early in the season and studied it diligently, following it up later with an invaluable blue-covered pamphlet which told him exactly how to play every position on the team. In the end, however, he discovered that the best way to learn baseball is to play it.

Chub started him at left-field and kept him there until he had learned to judge a ball, catch it and field it home. It was hard work, but Roy liked it. Sometimes, however, he doubted whether he would ever vindicate Chub's belief in him. There seemed an awful lot to learn and he envied the ready thought displayed by the fellows who had been playing the game for several years. I think that Chub would have strained a point to keep Roy with him as long as it did not endanger the success of the team, for by this time the two were wellnigh inseparable. But it very soon became evident that no favoritism was necessary; Roy deserved a place on the nine by virtue of his ability. By the middle of April he was having a try at first, and two weeks later he had succeeded to the position, vice Patten removed to the outfield.

It did n't take him long to accustom himself to the place and its requirements. As Chub had said, he had height and reach, was quick and steady and clear-headed. Of course there was talk; disgruntled fellows who had failed at making the team sneered at Chub's favoritism, and Horace found time from his rowing duties to try and stir up discord amongst the baseball men. But Patten, who had more cause than anyone else to feel dissatisfied, had nothing to say. He had sense enough to realize that Chub had given the position to the best man, and enough of the right sort of spirit to be satisfied, so long as it was for the good of the team and the school. Patten went out to rightfield, stifled his disappointment and "played ball."

Chub must have been right. Unless he "has it in him" no boy can learn to play baseball well in three months, as Roy did. Perhaps, though, Mr. Cobb's coaching deserves more credit than I am giving it. He certainly

worked hard with Roy. And so did Chub. And the other members of the nine, amongst whom Roy was highly popular, helped, perhaps unconsciously, to give him self-confidence in the early days of his novitiate. So, it seems, the Fates worked together to fashion him into a baseball player. Perhaps the first or second four lost a good oar when Roy chose baseball instead of rowing; be that as it may, it is certain the nine found a good first baseman.

Saturday was the first day of the April recess and Roy and Chub spent the morning on the river. They paddled down stream for a mile or more in the canoe and fished, but with scant success. In the afternoon came baseball practice which ended with a six-inning game with a Silver Cove team. Sunday was rather dull, for it rained torrents. Chub, Roy, Gallup and Post donned rubber coats or old sweaters in the afternoon and took a long tramp inland. But Monday morning dawned bright and fresh and as soon as breakfast was over the fellows, under Mr. Buckman's direction, began the overhauling of the camping outfit. The four big tents were pulled from their quarters in the boat house, spread out on the landing and gone over for holes or weak places. Then lost pegs were replaced, new guy-ropes supplied, and a broken ridge-pole was mended. Dinner was rather a hurried meal that day, for every fellow and there were twenty odd left at schoolwas eager to get into camp. At three o'clock the tents and outfits were loaded into row boats and transferred to the island. All afternoon boats went back and forth on errands; baking powder had been forgotten, Gallup wanted his camera, someone had neglected one of the hatchets on the landing, cook had neglected to grind the coffee before packing it, four more blankets were needed, Mr. Buckman wanted a roll of adhesive plaster and a bottle of arnica. Meanwhile the tents were erected, the old cook-stove was set up and fuel gathered. five o'clock, Kirby, under Mr. Buckman's tuition, began the preparation of the first meal. Roy and Chub and half a dozen others built the camp fire in the open space between the tents, piling up the brush and slanting the dead limbs above it until the whole looked like an Indian wigwam. Then came supper: bacon,

At

potatoes, tea, milk and "spider cake," the latter an indigestible but delightful concoction of thin flour batter poured into the frying pan and cooked until nice and soggy.

After supper the camp-fire was lighted, the fellows spread themselves out on the ground about it and the camp went into executive session.

At nine o'clock the fellows sought their quarters and made their beds, for which purpose plenty of pine and hemlock boughs had been cut and piled in the clearing. Each tent was supplied with a lantern which swung from the ridge-pole. A rustic bench held a halfdozen tin wash-basins and a looking-glass was hung from a tree near by. By half-past nine preparations for the night were complete and the boys gathered again about the dying fire. Then good nights were said, though for some time the sound of laughter was heard. Then quiet fell over Fox Island and a big moon, coming up over the tree tops, paled the glow of the dying embers where the camp-fire had been.

CHAPTER XX.

A NIGHT ALARM.

Fox Island lay about two hundred yards off shore and perhaps thrice that distance upstream from the landing. It contained between an acre and a half and two acres, was beautifully wooded, stood well above flood tide and was surrounded on two sides by beaches of clean, white sand. Doctor Emery had purchased the island some years before; primarily, to keep away undesirable neighbors, and had soon discovered that it was a distinct addition to the school's attractions. The spring camping-out soon became one of the most popular features of the year.

The next morning Chub and Bacon did the honors of the island, conducting Roy from end to end and pointing out the historical spots, among them Victory Cove, so named because it was the scene of the first struggle between Hammond and Ferry Hill for the possession of the latter's boats, a struggle in which the campers came out victorious. "The next year," explained Chub, "they got the best of us and swiped four boats and we had to go

over and get them back. But that did n't change the name of the cove." It was ten o'clock when they got back to camp and found most of the fellows preparing for a bath. They followed suit and presently were splashing and diving in the water off Inner Beach. It was pretty cold at first, but they soon got used to it. Afterwards they laid in the sun on the white sand until Thurlow thumped on a dish pan with a big spoon and summoned them to dinner. Bathing suits were kept on until it was time to return to the mainland for afternoon practice. The island was practically deserted then, for but few of the campers were neither baseball nor crew men.

"Who's going to stay here?" asked Chub before he pushed off the boat. Four boys answered.

"Well, you fellows keep a watch for Hammond. They'll be paddling over here pretty soon, probably to-day or to-morrow, to see where we're keeping the boats. If they come around don't let them see you, but keep close watch till we come back."

The quartette promised eagerly to keep a sharp look-out and Chub and Roy dipped their oars and rowed across to the landing.

Nothing had been seen of Hammond's spies all that day and so the camp of boys went to bed without posting guards that night.

"I don't see," observed Roy as he was undressing, "why we don't tie the boats up if we 're afraid of having Hammond swipe them."

"Well, it wouldn't be fair, I guess," Chub answered. "You see we've always left them on the beach. If we tied 'em Hammond would n't have any show to get them."

"You talk as though you wanted her to get them," said Roy in puzzled tones.

"We do; that is, we want her to try and get them. If we take to tying them to trees and things Hammond will stop coming over and we'll miss more 'n half the fun of the camping, See?"

"You bet!" grunted Post.

"What's to keep her from coming over tonight, then," pursued Roy, "and taking the whole bunch while we 're asleep?"

"Because she does n't know where they are,