Toby laughed softly.

"Well, you see, Jack, I just knew what you'd be up to, and says I to
myself, it'd be a bully thing if I could beat Jack out for just once. So
I humped myself and ran around to see Joe Cameron, who happens to be a
distant relative of my mother, you remember. He wanted to help me, but
at first couldn't see any way where he could make use of a man like
Donohue, at least at living wages. But I pleaded so hard, that in the
end he remembered a certain place that was vacant. True, it only paid
fifteen a week, but he placed it at my disposal. And so after supper I
ran around to see if Donohue wouldn't consent to fill that job, through
the summer, or until a better one showed up. But I was tickled when Alec
told me about your stunt."

Chatting as they rode along, they were not long in reaching Harmony.
This town was somewhat larger than Chester, though the latter did more
business when it came to the matter of dollars and cents, on account of
the mills and factories along the lake and the river.

Toby soon transacted his errand, which was connected with a business
house. Then they made inquiries, and learned that Martin lived on the
outskirts of the town, actually on the road they meant to take going
home by another route.

"That must be his place yonder!" remarked Toby, presently.

"No doubt about it," laughed Jack, "for you can see that a baseball
crank lives in that big house with the extensive grounds. Listen to the
plunk of a ball landing in a glove, will you. Martin is having a little
private practice of a morning on his own account."

"Yes, I can see two fellows passing the ball across the lawn," admitted
Toby. "If all the other members of the Harmony team are just as hard at
work every hour of daylight, it's mighty evident they mean to be as fit
as a fiddle for that big game. They must feel that if they lose, all
their good work of the summer will go in the scrap heap."

"I'm glad to know they feel so anxious," chuckled Jack. "It shows how we
made them respect our team that last time, when they had their full
line-up on deck. We are due for a thrilling game, and don't you forget
it, Toby."

When the two boys who were passing the ball so swiftly discovered the
stopping flivver, and recognized their morning callers, they hurried out
through the gate to shake hands with Jack and Toby. Martin's companion
proved to be Hutchings, the efficient first baseman and hard hitter of
the locals.

They chatted for some time, Jack making such, inquiries as he had in
mind, and being given all the information at the disposal of the other
pair.

"About that letter of mine," Captain Martin finally remarked, when the
visitors were preparing to depart; "it was a nasty subject to handle,
and I hardly knew how to go about it; so finally decided to hit straight
out, and tell you what we suspected was going on over here. I was glad
to hear from Bailey that you boys took it in just the same spirit it was
sent."

"We were in a humor to give you and your fellows a hearty cheer," Jack
told him; "we all agreed that it was a genuine pleasure to run up
against such a fine bunch of honorable ball players; and believe me, if
we can't carry off that game for Chester, we'll not begrudge your crowd
for taking it, because we know it will have been fairly won."

It was in this friendly spirit that the rival captains shook hands and
parted. Each leader would fight tooth and nail to capture the impending
game, using all legitimate means to further his ends; but there would be
no hard feelings between the opposing players. Harmony's fine act had
rendered this a certainty.

Jack had said nothing about the narrow escape Chester had from a real
catastrophe in the loss of their wonderful young pitcher. He thought it
best not to mention matters that concerned only Chester folks; although
feeling positive that Martin would congratulate him on his success in
keeping Alec; for the game would lose much of its interest if only a
second-string pitcher officiated in the box for either side when they
anticipated showing their best goods.

"He's all wool, and a yard wide, that Martin," asserted Toby, after they
had turned their faces toward home again, and were booming along the
road that presently would take them close to the shore of Lake
Constance.

"There's no doubt about his being a good fellow," agreed Jack; "and it's
certainly a real pleasure to go up against such a crowd. For one, I've
underestimated the Harmony boys. We've heard a lot about their noisy
ways and hustle, but, after all, I think most of it's on the surface,
and deeper down they're just as much gentlemen as you'd find anywhere.
Most games of rivalry are won through aggressiveness, and plenty of
fellows cultivate that mode of playing. It doesn't follow that such
chaps are boors, or clowns, or brawlers off the field. We could stand a
little more of that sort of thing ourselves, to tell you the truth,
Toby--standing on our toes, and keeping wide awake every second of the
time play is on."

"Right you are, Jack, and after this I'm going to whoop it up a lot
more'n I've ever done before. You'll see some _hopping_ to beat the
band, too. I've managed to cover a good deal of territory up to now but,
say, I aspire to do still better. I'm rubbing snake oil on my joints
right along so as to make 'em more supple. Why, I'd _bathe_ in it
if I thought that would make me better able to do my part toward
corraling that great game for Chester."

"There, I had a first glimpse of Lake Constance," remarked Jack. "The
trees have closed the vista again, so you can't catch it; but I suppose
we'll soon come to a place where we'll have the water on our left, and
the road even runs along close to the edge. I remember skating up about
this far last February, soon after I arrived in Chester; and the lake
was then a solid sheet of smooth ice."

"Queer how cold the water stays all summer," mused Toby. "There are
times when I've seen boys shivering in July and August while bathing.
It's fed by springs, they say, though Paradise River also empties into
the lake. There, now you can see away across to the other shore, Jack.
Isn't it a bully sheet of water, though?"

"What dandy times we can have next winter iceboating, skating, playing
hockey, and everything like that," suggested Jack, delightedly, as his
eyes feasted on the immense body of fresh water, with its surface just
rippled in the soft summer breeze.

"We'll soon come to where the boys said they meant to go in swimming
this morning," added Toby. "It's a perfect day, too, even if the sun
does feel hot. Just such a day as this when I got that nasty little
cramp in the cold water of the lake, and might have had a serious time
only for Big Bob Jeffries taking me on his back and carrying me like a
baby to the shore."

"Listen!" exclaimed Jack just then, "what's all that yell going on ahead
of us? The boys must be cutting up capers; and yet it strikes me there's
a note of fear in their shouts. Turn on the juice, Toby, and eat up the
road! Something terrible may be happening, you know. Things keep
following each other these days like sheep going over a fence after
their leader!"

Toby made the flivver fairly bound along, such was his eagerness to
arrive at the scene of all the excitement. Twenty seconds later he gave
a loud cry.

"Look, Jack, there's some one floundering out there, and throwing up his
arms. It's our Joel Jackman, I do believe! and great Cæsar! he's got a
cramp and is drowning!"

CHAPTER XIII

WHEN THE CRAMP SEIZED JOEL

What the excited Toby had just said in thrilling tones was undoubtedly
the truth. There was no "fooling" about the frantic actions of the boy
who was struggling so desperately out in the lake. He was threshing the
water furiously, now vanishing partly underneath, only to come up again
in a whirl of bubbles.

When a cramp seizes any one, no matter if he should happen to be a
champion in the art of swimming, he is always in mortal peril of his
life, especially should he be at some distance from the shore, and in
deep water. It almost paralyzes every muscle, and the strongest becomes
like a very babe in its spasmodic clutch.

Joel Jackman was long-legged and thin, but had always been reckoned one
of those wiry sort of chaps, built on the order of a greyhound. He could
run like the wind, and jump higher than any fellow in all Chester,
barring none. But when that awful cramp seized him in the cold water of
Lake Constance, lie found himself unable to make any progress toward
shore, distant at least fifty feet.

It was all he could do to keep his head above water, struggling as he
was with the fear of a terrible death before his eyes. His two comrades
were running up and down on the shore; not that they were such arrant
cowards but what they would have been willing to do almost anything to
help Joel; but unfortunately they had lost their heads in the sudden
shock; and as Toby afterwards contemptuously said, "acted like so many
chickens after the ax had done its foul work."

Jack sized up the situation like a flash.

"Toby, you get one of those boards over yonder, and come out to help me
if I'm in trouble, understand?" he jerked out, even as the flivver came
to a sudden stop, and he was bounding over the side regardless of any
exit.

"All right, Jack; you bet I will!" Toby shouted, following suit.

Jack began to shed his outer clothes as he ran swiftly forward. First
his cap went, and then his coat. He had low shoes on so that he was able
to detach them with a couple of quick jerks, and at the loss of the
laces.

Two seconds, when at the verge of the water, sufficed for him to get rid
of his trousers, and then, he went in with a rush.

Toby meanwhile had tried to follow suit even as he made for the boards
in question. It had been just like Jack to glimpse these in the
beginning, while those other fellows apparently did not know a board was
within half a mile.

Seeing what Toby meant to do, the two swimmers followed suit, so that
presently the whole three of them had each picked up a plank, and were
pushing out with it.

Jack had plunged ahead, swimming in any old way, since his one object
just then was speed, and not style. He could not have done better had he
been up against a swarm of rivals working for a prize. Well, there
_was_ a prize dangling there in plain sight. A precious human life
was at stake, and unless he could arrive in time poor Joel might go
down, never to come up again in his senses.

He had already been under once, and through his desperate efforts
succeeded in reaching the surface of the agitated water again. Even as
Jack started swimming, after getting in up to his neck, the drowning boy
vanished again.

Jack swam on, trying to increase his pace, if such a thing were
possible. He must get on the spot without the waste of a second. Joel
would likely come to the surface again, but battling more feebly against
the threatening fate. If he went down a third time it would be all over
but the funeral, Jack knew.

He was more than two-thirds of the way there when to his ecstatic joy he
once more discovered the head of Joel. The boy was still making a
gallant fight, but under a fearful handicap.

Jack shouted hoarsely as he swam onward:

"Keep fighting, Joel! We'll get you, old chap! Strike out as hard as you
can! You're all right, I tell you, only don't stop working!"

Perhaps these cheering words did help Joel to continue his weakening
efforts to keep himself afloat. Possibly had it not been for his hearing
Jack's voice raised in encouragement, he might have given up the ghost
before then.

Nearer Jack surged, his heart seeming to be in his throat with dread
lest Joel go down again a few seconds before he could get within touch.
The three boys with the boards were also coming along in a solid bunch,
although of course with less speed than Jack showed, owing partly to the
fact that they had to shove the planks before them.

Now, Joel, with a last despairing gurgle was sinking again, and for the
very last time, being utterly exhausted by his frantic struggles, and
the terrible pain occasioned by the cramp.

But Jack knew he had arrived close enough to dart forward and clutch his
comrade before the other could quite vanish from view. Joel was so far
gone that he did not try to grip his rescuer, as most drowning persons
will do in their frantic desire to save themselves at any cost.

Jack tried to keep the boy's head above water as best he could. He made
no effort to swim towards the shore. What was the use when the other
fellows were coming along with their boards. The one thing necessary
just then was to prevent Joel from swallowing any more water; he had
already no doubt gulped in huge quantities, and lost the ability to
breathe properly.

So Toby and the other two found them when they finally arrived. The
planks were arranged so that Joel could be raised and sustained by their
means; after which the little procession of swimmers headed for the
bank.

When they arrived, Joel was lifted out of the water and carried tenderly
up to a patch of green sward lying in the shade of a wide-branching oak.
Here they laid him down on his chest, while Jack proceeded to work over
him, instructing the other fellows just what they were to do to assist.

He knelt astride with one knee on either side of Joel's body, and
commenced pressing down regularly on the small of his back, so as to
induce an artificial respiration. At the same time, Toby and one of the
other fellows worked the unconscious boy's arms back and forth like a
pair of pistons; while the third fellow started to rub his cold lower
extremities.

At first Joel seemed pretty far gone, and his appearance sent a chill
through the sympathetic heart of Toby Hopkins. But after they had kept
up this vigorous treatment for a little while, there were signs of
returning animation. Joel belched out a gallon of water, Toby always
insisted, and inside of ten minutes was able to talk, though Jack
insisted on keeping up the rubbing until the boy's body was a rosy hue
from the irritation.

"Now get some clothes on, Joel, and you'll soon be feeling prime," he
told the other, whose lips were still blue and quivering.

Joel had had quite enough of swimming for one day. Indeed, he would be
pretty cautious about getting any distance away from the shore after
that, having received a most fearful shock. Still, boys recover from
such things, given a little time, and Joel had always been reckoned a
fellow who did not know the meaning of the word "fear."

The other boys had apparently lost the joy of bathing for that day.
They, too, started to don their clothes, and begged Toby to "hold up,"
so that they might get a lift to town in the flivver; which, being a
whole-souled fellow, of course, "Hop" was only too glad to do.

Later on, after arriving home, Jack and Toby talked matters over between
themselves. This new and entirely unexpected happening had been only
another link in the growing chain of troubles hanging over the head of
the captain of the Chester baseball team.

"What if we hadn't chanced to be on the road just at that very minute,
Jack?" ventured Toby, with a shiver; "poor old Joel would certainly have
been drowned, because neither Frank nor Rufus had the slightest idea
what to do so as to save him. And that would have broken up our
combination in the nine, all right, because we'd find it hard to replace
such a runner and fielder and batter as Joel."

"Of course," said Jack, "the worst thing of all would be losing a
friend. Joel is a mighty fine all-around fellow, and most of us are fond
of him. And just as you say, the game would like as not have to be
postponed, because how could we play as we would want to with a chum
lying dead at home? So I'm grateful because we did chance to be
Johnny-on-the-spot."

"That was sure a great job you did, Jack, believe me; and when I say
such a thing I'm not meaning to throw bouquets either. Whee! but you did
shoot through the water like a fish. I've watched a pickerel dart at a
minnow, but no slinker ever had the bulge on you that time."

"I had to get along with all sail set," Jack told him, with a smile, for
it is always pleasant to have a friend hand out a meed of praise, even
to the most modest boy going. "I knew Joel was at the last gasp, and
even a second lost might mean he'd go down for the third time before I
could get there. And yet do you know, Toby, it seemed to me right then
and there as if I had a ton of lead fastened to me. Why, I felt as
though something was holding me back, just as you know the nightmare
grips you usually. But when I was within striking distance, I knew I
could save Joel. He made a gallant fight, and deserves a lot of praise."

"I wonder what we'll have happen next, Jack? Seems to me not a day
passes but you've got to play the rescue act with some member of our
team. There was Fred worrying you, and still acting queer; then along
comes Donohue threatening to give us the slip because his folks meant to
move out of town, and he couldn't pitch unless he lived in Chester. Now,
as if those things didn't count up enough to keep you awake nights, old
Joel had to go and try to kick the bucket, and force you to yank him out
of the lake."

Jack laughed and shook his head.

"It's hard to tell what another day may bring forth, Toby," he went on
to say. "Remember, this is only Thursday, and Friday is said to be a
very unlucky day in some people's lives, especially when it falls on the
thirteenth of the month, as happens this year. There are still a few
fellows in the nine who haven't shown up yet in the catastrophe ward.
Why, Toby, it might even be _you_ who'll wave the flag and call out
for help."

"I give you my affidavit, Jack, that I'm going to play mighty safe from
now on. No fishing or swimming for me, and I'll even run that old
flivver at slow speed, for fear it takes a notion to land me in a ditch,
and come in on top of me. But I hope, Jack, you're not getting
discouraged with all these things coming right along?"

"I might, Toby, if I were not built on a stubborn line. We'll go to
Harmony on Saturday and make a fight for that game even if we have to
lug along a crippled nine, some of them on crutches!"

Toby brightened up on hearing the leader grimly say this.

"That's the sort of stuff, Jack!" he exclaimed, slapping his chum on the
back.

"In the bright lexicon of youth there is no such word as fail! We'll go
forth with our hearts set on victory, and that's one half of the battle.
Hurrah! for Chester!"

CHAPTER XIV

A NIGHT ALARM

Before the two boys parted that afternoon, after the practice of the
whole regular nine, barring Joel, who, taking Jack's advice, laid off
for one occasion, Joel had asked the captain to drop over when he had
finished his supper.

"I want to see you about a number of things," he had told Jack; "not so
much in connection with the game we're scheduled to play, as other
affairs looking to the ambitious programme we've mapped out for Chester
boys the rest of the summer, in the fall, and even up to winter. For one
thing, I'd like to give you a few pointers about the fellows in our
crowd, so that you can size them up for the football squad later on."

That caught Jack in a weak spot.

"I'll go you there, Toby," he hastened to say, "because I've been trying
to figure things out along those lines myself. When you're placing men
on an eleven, you ought to know their every strong and weak point; and
I'm too new a hand here in Chester to be on to such things. So I'll be
glad to have you give me points."

Accordingly, he knocked at the Hopkins' door soon after seven that
evening, and was immediately admitted by Toby himself. The Hopkins
family consisted of Toby's father and mother, and an older son just then
away on a trip to the West, as he was attending college, and had been
promised this treat if he passed with honors. There was also a very
small girl, named Tessie, who naturally was the pet of the household,
and in a way to be spoiled by the adoration of her two brothers.

Toby had a den of his own in the upper part of the rambling house. Here
just as most boys love to do, he had the walls fairly covered with the
burgees of various colleges, all sorts of mementos collected during his
outdoor experiences, curios that in Toby's eyes were precious because
many of them bore an intimate relation with some little adventure or
jolly outing in which he had taken part.

There were also football togs, baseball contraptions, fishing
paraphernalia in unlimited abundance, as well as striking illustrations
covering the field of sport as seen through the eyes of youth.

But one good thing about it all, you would look in vain for the
slightest trace of any vulgar picture; Toby had no love for such
so-called sport as prize fighting or any kindred subject.

Here in this adorable den, reflecting the loves of a genuine boy with
red blood in his veins, there often assembled a number of lads who
always felt very much at home amidst such surroundings; but Toby would
allow of no rough-house scuffling in his quarters, to annoy his mother,
and get on her nerves. When the fellows dropped in to have a chat and
lounge in his easy chairs amidst such exhilarating surroundings they
were expected to behave themselves.

Joel had the big lamp lighted. It threw a fine mellow glow over the
walls of the den and showed up the myriad of objects with which they
were covered. Somehow, Joel always liked his room much better when that
royal lamp was burning, for even the most remote corner, seldom pierced
by the intercepted rays of the sun, loomed up under its ardent rays.

Here the pair settled down for a long quiet chat. Jack wanted to ask a
hundred questions bearing on the boys with whom he had become so
intimately associated during the few months since his advent in Chester.
Since they had so kindly bestowed the leadership in sports upon him, he
wished to be like a wise general and lose no opportunity for learning
each boy's individual ability.

Of course he had been keeping close "tabs" on them right along, but
then, Toby, who had seen them attempting to play football, for instance,
would be able to tell of certain stunts this or that fellow had done
that were out of the common. Such points help amazingly in "putting a
round man in a round hole." Too often a half-back should be a tackle, or
a guard, in order to bring out the very best that is in him.

Then again Toby knew more or less concerning the fighting abilities of
the teams in the neighboring towns, Marshall and Harmony in particular.
His love for sport had taken Toby to every game within thirty miles he
could hear of in contemplation; for if Chester seemed bound to sleep,
and decline to enter the lists, a fellow who yearned to indulge in such
things must go abroad to satisfy his longings.

So it came about that he was able to give Jack many valuable tips
connected with the elevens with whom Chester was apt to come in contact,
should they succeed in whipping a team into anything like fair
condition.

"Now, after all you've told me about our boys," Jack was saying along
after nine o'clock, when he was thinking of starting home, feeling tired
after such a strenuous day, "I begin to believe we can get up a squad of
football players here capable of putting up a strong game. One thing in
our favor is the fact that we have an old athlete like Coach Joe Hooker
to show us how to work out greenhorns."

"That's as true as you live," snapped Toby, his face glowing with
eagerness, for one of the ambitions of his life seemed in prospect of
being fulfilled. "I've never really played football, though of course I
can kick, and run, and dodge pretty fairly. But in theory I'm away up in
the game. Other fellows are in the same fix; and we'll need a whole lot
of practice before we feel justified in going up against any older
eleven. Like as not we'll get snowed under; but even if we lose every
game this season, it'll give us what we need in the way of experience,
and another year we'll show the way."

"There are lots of other outdoor games we'll have to take up in season,"
continued Jack, thoughtfully. "Once the spirit of sport has gripped the
boys of Chester, and they'll be hungry to go into anything that means a
test of endurance, skill or pluck."

"I suppose now you've played football before, Jack?" asked the other.

"Well, we had a pretty fair eleven in the city I came from, and I was
lucky enough to belong to them," he said modestly. "I don't know that I
shone as a star very much, but on the whole, we managed to keep up our
end, and last year we pulled off the championship in our section of
country."

"What position did you fill?" queried Toby.

"Our captain made a half-back of me," came the answer. "Somehow he
seemed to believe I was better suited for that position than a tackle,
though I wanted to be in the other place at the start. But it happened
there were two sprinters better fitted than I was to hold down the job.
So unless I run across a man who seems to show signs of being my
superior in the field I've occupied, I suppose I'll continue to play
half-back to the end of the chapter."

"Well," remarked Toby, as Jack made out to pick up his cap with the
intention of leaving, since the hour was getting late, "one more day,
and then what? A whole twenty-four hours for things to happen calculated
to bust up our plans, and knock 'em galley-west. I wish, this was Friday
night, and nothing serious had come about. We need that big game to make
us solid with the people of Chester. It might be hard on poor Harmony,
but it would be the making of our town."

"Hearing you say that," chuckled Jack, "makes me think of that story of
the old man and his boy's bull-pup."

"I don't know that I've ever heard it, so fire away and tell the yarn,
Jack," the other pleaded.

"Why, once a boy had a young bull-pup of which he was very fond. His
father also took considerable interest in teaching the dog new tricks.
On one occasion the old man was down on his knees trying to make the
small dog jump at him, while the boy kept sicking him on. Suddenly the
bull-pup made a lunge forward and before the old man could draw back he
had gripped him by the nose, and held on like fun. Then the boy, only
thinking of how they had succeeded in tempting the small dog, clapped
his hands and commenced to dance around, shouting: 'Swing him around,
dad, swing him every which way! It's hard on you, of course, but I tell
you it'll be the making of the pup!'"

Toby laughed as Jack finished the anecdote, which it happened he had
never heard before.

"Well, Harmony will be dad, and the bull-pup I know turns out to be
Chester, bent on holding through thick and thin to victory. I'm glad you
came over, Jack, and if I've been able to hand you out a few pointers we
haven't wasted our time."

"I noticed when on the way here that it had clouded up," remarked Jack.
"Let's hope we don't get a storm that will compel us to postpone that
game. Our boys are in the pink of condition, with so much practice, and
might go stale by another week."

"That's another cause for anxiety, then," croaked Toby shrugging his
shoulders. "Here, I'll find my cap, and step outdoors with you. My eyes
are blinking after so much light, and a breath of fresh air wouldn't go
bad."

He had hardly said this than Toby stopped in his tracks.

"Listen, Jack, the fire-alarm bell! There's a blaze starting up, and
with so much wind blowing it may mean a big conflagration. Where did I
toss that cap of mine?"

"I saw something like a cap behind the rowing-machine over there when I
tried it out," observed the other, whose habit of noticing even the
smallest things often served him well.

"Just what it is," asserted Toby, after making a wild plunge in the
quarter designated; "that's my meanest trait, Jack. Mother tries to
break me of it ever so often, but I seem to go back again to the old
trick of carelessness. Now come on, and we'll rush out. Already I can
hear people beginning to shout."

They went downstairs two at a jump. For once Toby did not think of his
mother's nerves. Fires were not so frequent an occurrence in the history
of a small city like Chester that a prospective conflagration could be
treated lightly.

Once out of the house and they had no difficulty about deciding in which
direction the fire lay. Some people, principally boys, were already
running full-tilt through the street, and all seemed to be heading in
the one direction. At the same time all manner of comments could be
heard passing between them as they galloped along, fairly panting.

"It must be the big mill, from the light that's beginning to show up in
the sky!" hazarded one boy.

"Shucks! what are you giving us, Sandy!" gasped another. "The mill ain't
over in that direction at all. Only cottages lie there, with an
occasional haystack belongin' to some garden-truck raiser. Mebbe it
might be a barn."

"Just what it is, Tim," a third boy chimed in eagerly. "Hay burns like
wildfire you know, and see how red the sky is agettin' now."

Neither Jack nor Toby had thus far ventured to make any sort of guess.
No matter what was afire it promised to be a serious affair, with the
wind blowing at the rate of twenty miles an hour or more. If it turned
out to be a private house some one was likely to be rendered homeless
before long.

The bell continued to clang harshly. Chester still clung to the
volunteer system of firemen, though there was some talk of purchasing an
up-to-date motor truck engine, and hiring a force to be on duty day and
night.

"Jack," suddenly called out Toby, "don't you see that we're heading
straight for Fred's house. Honest to goodness I believe it's that very
cottage afire right now."

CHAPTER XV

WHAT HAPPENED AT THE FIRE

"Hello there, fellows, you're on the job, too, I see!"

That was burly Steve Mullane calling out as he came tearing along in the
wake of Jack and Toby. Steve was passionately fond of anything in the
line of a fire. He had been known to chase for miles out into the
country on learning that some farmer's haystacks and barn were ablaze;
though he usually arrived far too late to see anything but the ruins.

"What do you think, Steve," gurgled Toby, "I was just saying I thought
it might be Fred Baxter's place."

"Seems like it was around that section of territory anyhow," replied the
other, as well as he was able to speak, while exerting himself to the
utmost.

Jack made no immediate comment, but he himself was beginning to believe
Toby's guess might not be far wrong. It gave him a fresh wrench about
the region of his heart to believe this. It would mean another source of
trouble for poor Fred, and might in the end eliminate him from the game
on Saturday.

All Chester was aroused by this time. When that brazen bell kept
clanging away in such a loud fashion people knew that something out of
the usual run was taking place. They flocked forth, all hurrying in the
same general direction, until the streets were fairly blocked with the
crowds.

Now came the engine, driven by an expert member of the fire company, the
pair of horses galloping wildly under the whip, and the spur of such
general excitement. Loud cheers greeted the advent of the volunteer
department. The men looked very brave and heroic with their red
firehats, and rubber coats. They would undoubtedly do good work once
they got on the ground; but that wind was playing havoc with things, and
perhaps after all it might not be possible to save the imperiled
building.

All doubts were removed, for on rounding a bend the three boys
discovered that it was actually the modest Badger house that was afire.
Flames could be seen pouring out of the windows, and a great smoke
arose, telling that the whole interior must be heating up, and liable to
break into a vast blaze at any minute.

"Whee! it looks bad for Fred's folks, now!" cried Toby, his first
thought being of the suffering of those involved.

"It's going to make a dandy fire, all right!" Steve was heard to say to
himself; and it was not because he was a heartless boy that this was his
first thought, for Steve could be as tender as the next one; only he did
dearly love a fire, and on that account was apt to forget how a blaze
almost always meant loss for somebody, possibly deadly peril as well.

There was quite a mob of people already on the spot. Some who lived much
closer than the three chums had been able to reach the scene of the fire
in considerably less time.

Jack was trying to remember what things looked like in the near vicinity
of the Badger home. He had been there only once or twice in all, but
that habit of observation clung to him, and he was thus able to
recollect how he had noticed that some sort of a woodshed stood close to
the back of the house. If this held considerable fuel for the kitchen
stove, and a fire managed to start in some way, it was just situated
right to sweep through the house, being on the windward end.

"Where's Fred and his folks?" asked Toby just then, as they started
boy-fashion to elbow their way through the crowd, determined to get in
the front rank in order to see everything that transpired.

Jack was himself looking eagerly around, with the same object in view.
He remembered the sad face of Fred's little mother, who he feared had
seen much of trouble during the later years of her life. It looked as
though there might be still more cause for anxiety hovering over her.

"She must be in that bunch of women folks over yonder," asserted Steve.
"Yes, I just had a glimpse of that pretty little kid, Fred's sister,
Barbara. One of the women is holding the child in her arms, and she's
wrapped in bed clothes, which shows she must have been sleeping when the
fire broke out."

"I wonder what's happening over where that group of men is standing,"
remarked Toby, solicitously. "There, a boy has fetched a dipper of water
from the well bucket. Why, somebody must have been hurt, Jack."

"Let's make our way over and find out," suggested Steve, quickly.

Accordingly the three boys pushed through the various groups of
chattering men, women and children. The firemen had by now managed to
get to work, and the first stream of water was playing on the burning
house; though every one could see that there was little chance of saving
any part of the doomed structure, since the fire fiend had gained such a
start.

"What's the matter here?" Jack asked a small boy who came reeling out
from the packed crowd, as though unable to look any longer.

"Why, it's Fred Badger!" he told them in his shrill piping tones that
could be heard even above the hoarse cries of the fire laddies and the
murmur of voices from the surging mob, constantly growing larger as
fresh additions arrived.

"What happened to him?" almost savagely asked Steve.

"He was trying to haul some of the furniture out, I heard tell,"
continued the Chester urchin, "and he got hurted some way. He's lying
there like he was dead. I just couldn't stand it any more, that's what."

Filled with horror Jack pushed forward, with his two chums backing him
up. What fresh calamity was threatening the Badger family, he asked
himself. Poor Fred certainly had quite enough to battle against without
being knocked out in this fashion.

When, however, they had managed to press in close enough to see, it was
to discover the object of their solicitude sitting up. Fred looked like
a "drowned rat," as Toby hastened to remark, almost joyously. Evidently
they had emptied the pail of cold water over his head in the effort to
revive him, and with more or less success.

Jack was considerably relieved. It was not so bad as he had feared,
though Fred certainly looked weak, and next door to helpless.

"I hope he'll not be knocked out from playing that game with us
Saturday," Steve took occasion to say.

"Oh! Fred's made of tough stuff," asserted Toby, the wish being father
to the thought; "he'll recover all right. I only hope they've got their
goods covered by insurance. It'd be pretty rocky if they didn't, let me
tell you. Nearly everything is gone, I'm afraid. Fred did manage to drag
a little out, but that fire is bound to eat up the balance, no matter
what the firemen can do to throw water inside."

Jack suddenly discovered that the man whom he had seen talking with Fred
was pushing his way through the group. He acted too as though he might
be deeply interested in matters, for he shoved folks aside with an air
that would not stand for a refusal to allow him free passage. Toby
discovered him at about the identical moment.

"Look who's here, Jack!" he muttered, tugging at the other's coat
sleeve. "Now, what under the sun's gone and fetched that duck out here
to bother Fred again? We really ought not allow such a thing, Jack. The
nerve of the slick sport to push his way in to where Fred lies there."

"Just hold your horses, will you, Toby?" Jack told him. "As yet we don't
know anything about that man, who or what life is, and the nature of his
business with Fred. There, you see the boy seems to be glad to have him
around. Why, the man has gripped his hand. He seems to be a whole lot
excited, for he's questioning Fred as if he wanted to make sure
everybody was safe out of the cottage."

"I wonder if they are?" remarked Toby. "I've seen little Barbara, and
here's our comrade, while I reckon I glimpsed Mrs. Badger over there
among those women; but how about the crippled girl, Jack? Anybody seen
her around?"

A fresh thrill seized Jack's heart in a grip of ice. Of course it was
almost silly to suspect that the cripple could have been forgotten in
all the excitement; but anything is liable to happen at a fire, where
most people lose their heads, and do things they would call absurd at
another time.

"Fred would be apt to know, I should think," suggested Steve, anxiously,
casting an apprehensive glance in the direction of the burning house,
and mentally calculating just what chance any one still inside those
walls would have of coming out alive.

"Unless he was rattled in the bargain," said Jack. "Lots of people leave
things for others to do. Fred may have thought his mother would fetch
Lucy out; and on her part she took it for granted Fred had taken care of
his sister the first thing."

"Gee whiz! I wonder, could that happen, and the poor thing be in there
right now," Toby exclaimed, looking horrified at the idea.

"Listen to all that squealing over among the women, will you?" Steve was
saying.

Indeed, a fresh outburst of feminine cries could be heard. Apparently
something had happened to give the women new cause for fright. Some of
those around Fred turned to look. They could see the women running this
way and that like a colony of bees that has been disturbed.

"They certain sure act like they might be looking for somebody!"
asserted Toby. "See how they ask questions of everyone they meet. Jack,
do you think Fred's mother could have just learned that something had
happened to her boy; or would it be Lucy they miss for the first time?"

"We'll soon know," said Jack, firmly, "because here comes one of the
women running this way like a frightened rabbit."

Eagerly, and with their pulses bounding like mad, they awaited the
arrival of the woman. Many others had also turned to greet her, sensing
some fresh calamity, before which even the burning of the poor widow's
cottage would sink into insignificance.

"Is she here, men?" gasped the woman, almost out of breath. "Have any of
you seen Lucy Badger? We can't find her anywhere. Is that Fred there on
the ground? He ought to know, because his mother says he must have taken
his sister from the house."

They all turned toward Fred. He still sat there looking white and weak,
though he was evidently recovering by degrees from his swoon after being
hit on the head by some falling object. He looked up in sudden anxiety
as he heard the woman speaking.

"What's the matter, Mrs. Moody?" he asked, trying to get on his knees,
though the effort was almost too much for his strength. "What's that you
said about my sister Lucy? Oh! isn't she with mother and Barbara? I
thought sure I saw her in the crowd while I was working trying to save
some of the furniture mother valued."

"We can't find the girl anywhere!" the woman cried, in anguish, "and
perhaps she's still in there, stupefied by the smoke, and unable to save
herself, poor, poor thing. Oh! somebody must try to find out if it's so.
Fred, are you able to make the attempt?"

Poor Fred fell back on his knees. His powers of recuperation did not
seem equal to the demand. He groaned miserably on discovering how unable
he was to doing what in his manly heart he believed to be his solemn
duty.

Jack was about to take it upon himself to attempt the dangerous rôle
when to his astonishment the mysterious stranger sprang up, and made a
thrilling announcement.

CHAPTER XVI

A STARTLING DISCLOSURE

"Let me try to save the child; it is no more than right that I should be
the one to risk his life!"

Possibly some of the men might have laid hands on the stranger and
prevented his attempting such a rash act, for with the house so filled
with smoke and flame it seemed next door to madness for any one to brave
the peril that lay in wait. He managed to elude them, however, and to
the astonishment of the three boys in particular, plunged recklessly
through the door where vast columns of smoke could be seen pouring
forth.

Apparently one of the valiant firemen might have been better fitted for
this dangerous duty than a gentleman of his calibre. Jack was tempted to
follow after the stranger, but the firemen had formed a line in front of
the entrance, and by their manner announced that no second fool would be
allowed to take his life in his hands by entering that blazing building.

Just then Mrs. Baxter came staggering up. She must have seen the little
episode, and suspected strongly that the one who had gone in was her own
boy Fred, unable to hold himself in check after learning that his poor
sister was in all probability still within the cottage.

Some of the men caught her as she was trying to rush toward the door,
holding out her arms entreatingly. The boys understood when they heard
her crying:

"Oh! why did you let him go in there? Was it not enough that I should
lose one of my children, but now I am doubly bereft! Fred, Fred, come
back to me!"

"Mother, see here I am!" called the boy, this time managing to regain
his feet, though he swayed unsteadily, and might have fallen in his
weakness only for Jack, who quickly put a sustaining arm around him.

Mrs. Badger turned swiftly and with a look of new-born joy on her
strained features. Another instant and she had darted forward and
embraced Fred. The poor woman was almost frantic with mingled emotions,
nor could any one blame her for giving way to weeping as she hugged
Fred.

"Oh! I was sure it must be you, my son, and I feared I should never see
either of you again!" she cried, passionately.

"I wanted to go, mother," he told her, soothingly, "but I couldn't stand
alone. You see, I was struck on the head and knocked out, so I'm feeling
as weak as a kitten."

"But Lucy?" wailed the poor woman.

"Try to calm yourself, mother," urged Fred, stoutly. "If she is in there
still he may yet be in time to save her, with the aid of Providence."

"But tell me who was so ready to take his own life in his hands, so as
to try and save my child for me?" she went on, almost hysterically. "Oh!
I shall never cease to remember him for a noble man in my prayers. What
neighbor could have been such a Good Samaritan to me and mine!"

"It was the stranger, Mrs. Badger!" said one of the men close by, and
Jack, as well as Toby listened eagerly for what was coming.

"Yes, a party who's been hanging around town for a week or more,
stopping at the Eureka House," added another of the citizens, who
apparently had noticed the presence of the guest in question, and even
speculated as to his object in staying so long in Chester, where there
were no special summer attractions outside of the beautiful lake near
by.

"And he seemed to have lots of money in the bargain," a third went on to
say, as he eyed the burning house as though wondering greatly why a
stranger would accept such grave risks for people whom he could never
have seen before.

"Mebbe I might throw a little light on this thing," said another man,
eagerly. "I happened to get in conversation with the party at one time.
He goes by the name of Smith at the hotel. He told me he'd been pretty
much of a wanderer, and had seen most of the world. But among other
things he said was that once on a time he had been a fireman. He even
showed me a scar that he said reminded him of a night when he nigh lost
his life in a big blaze. So you see he's right in his line when he goes
into a burning building to effect a rescue!"

Jack was picking up points as he listened to these things so hurriedly
said. He turned to see what effect they had upon Fred and his mother.
The woman seemed more bewildered than ever. Evidently she could not
understand why a total stranger should risk his life for her child when
so many of her neighbors stood around; unless it might be the old fever
still burned in Smith's veins, and he could not resist the lure of the
crackling flames that seemed to be defying him.

Fred, however, did not look at all puzzled. There was an eager light in
his eyes that Jack began to understand. Fred knew something that his
mother was utterly ignorant of. He had heard those words of hers about
remembering the gallant stranger in her prayers with considerable
emotion. Jack even thought the expression written on the face of the boy
might spell delight.

"But even if he had at one time been a fire-fighter in the city," Mrs.
Badger kept on saying, wonderingly, "why should he be so eager to throw
away his life in _my_ service. What could a poor woman and her
crippled child be to him?"

Then Fred, unable longer to keep his wonderful secret, burst out:

"Oh! mother, don't you know, can't you guess who he is? Why, it's only
right he should be the one to save our poor Lucy, or perish in the
attempt; because this is the great chance he's been praying would come,
so he could prove to you that he has redeemed the past. Mother, surely
now you know who he is?"

She stared at him as though bewildered. Then her eyes again sought the
burning building into which the stranger had plunged, bent on his
mission of mercy. By now the staggering truth must have forced itself
into her groping mind, for she suddenly caught hold of Fred again, and
hugged him passionately.

"It must be the mysterious ways of Heaven!" Jack heard her say. "Tell
me, boy, do you mean that it is----"

"Yes, my father!" Fred said, "and for a whole week and more I have known
about his being here. He wanted to wait until I could get up courage
enough to break the news to you. He has changed, mother, oh! so much,
and made a fortune honestly in the mines, just to show you that the past
has been wiped out. And surely this last act of his proves it."

The poor woman sank on her knees. Jack could see her lips move, though
of course he was unable to catch a single word she uttered; but he felt
positive she was sending up a prayer of gratitude, and beseeching
Providence that the precious lives of both father and daughter might be
spared through a miracle.

It was all as clear as daylight to Jack now. He could easily understand
how at some time in the past, while the Badgers lived in another town,
the husband and father had fallen into evil ways, almost breaking his
wife's heart. Finally he had possibly been forced to flee from the law,
which he may have broken while under the influence of liquor. And all
through the years that had come and gone they had never heard of him
again, so that she felt she had a right to call herself a widow.

Then one day had come this stranger to Chester, whom Fred must have met,
to learn that the other was his own father. He doubtless had been old
enough to understand how cruelly his beloved mother had been treated in
the past, and it took time to make the boy believe in the protestations
of the prodigal father. As the days passed he saw the other frequently,
and was gradually coming to believe that his reformation had been
sincere.

All the while Mr. Badger had been afraid lest his wife refuse to forgive
him, and receive him. From afar he had taken to watching the humble
cottage home in which his dear ones dwelt, and doubtless each day saw
his yearning to embrace them grow stronger.

Why, Jack could easily understand now his peculiar actions at the time
he stood leaning on the picket fence, and watching; also why he should
seek to hold the trusting little hand of pretty Barbara as he walked at
her side. He would doubtless have given worlds just then for the
privilege of clasping the child in his arms and straining her to his
heart, but he did not dare, lest she repulse him.

It was simply grand, and Jack's heart beat tumultuously as he watched
Mrs. Badger praying for the safety of little Lucy, yes, and also for the
life of the man whom she had for years been trying to put out of her
mind as utterly unworthy of remembrance.

Just then in the light of his noble sacrifice she undoubtedly forgot all
the misery he had caused her during their married life, and could only
think of him as he had appeared during their courtship, when she
believed him the best of his sex.

It would be all right, Jack believed, if only Mr. Badger might find his
Lucy, and be able to save her life. His wife would be only too ready and
willing to let the bitter past sink into oblivion, and begin life anew,
in her belief in his reformation.

So all interest now hung over the burning cottage. Somewhere inside
those doomed walls the man who had once upon a time in his checkered
career served as a fireman on a city force, was groping his way about,
seeking to stumble over the unconscious form of the poor little cripple
whom the pungent smoke had caused to collapse before she could creep to
safety.

His utter ignorance of the interior of the cottage would be against him,
Jack feared. He wondered whether a double tragedy might complete this
wonderful happening; or would Heaven be so kind as to allow the
repentant man to save Lucy, and thus again cement the bonds his
wickedness in the past had severed?

The only things in his favor were first of all the fact that he had had
much experience along this line of life-saving, and would know just how
to go about it; and then again his great enthusiasm might serve to carry
him along through difficulties that would have daunted most men.

The firemen could do next to nothing to assist in the rescue. They
gathered before the building, and sent several streams of water in at
the gaping front door, as if desirous of keeping the flames back as long
as possible, and thus affording the stranger a better chance for
effecting his purpose.

Already he had been inside for several minutes. Events had occurred with
lightning-like rapidity, for Fred and his mother had talked eagerly. To
Jack, however, it seemed as though a quarter of an hour must have
elapsed, he was in such a state of suspense. He felt as though he must
break through the line of fire fighters and dash into the cottage, to
find the pair they knew to be still there amidst that terrible smoke, so
dense and suffocating.

Would they ever come out, he kept asking himself, as he strained his
eyes while looking. When hope was beginning to fade away Jack heard a
shout that thrilled him to the core, and made him pluck up new courage.

CHAPTER XVII

FRED RENEWS HIS PLEDGE

"There he is!"

It was this thrilling cry that broke out above the noise of the
crackling flames, the spatter of rushing water, and the murmur of many
voices.

"And he's got the child with him!" another sharp-eyed onlooker shouted
exultantly; for although they knew nothing of the tie that bound the
stranger to the crippled girl he had gone to save, they could appreciate
the heroism at its true value, and were ready to honor the other for his
brave deed.

Staggering forth from the building came the man. He utterly disdained
any assistance from the ready firemen, lost in admiration for his
courage. They might have deemed him next-door to a fool when he dashed
into the building, but now in the light of his astonishing success he
was a hero.

Mrs. Badger gave a thrilling cry, and advanced toward the man who bore
the cripple in his arms. He was a pitiable sight, for most of his beard
and hair had been scorched, and in places doubtless he had received
burns more or less serious; but he paid no attention to such things.

"Here is your darling child, Mary; I saved her for you!"

Hardly had Mrs. Badger taken the unconscious girl in her arms when the
man sank down at her feet in a dead faint. He had held up through
everything until he was able to effect his purpose, and then Nature
could stand no more.

Jack bent over him and called for water. He sincerely hoped that it
might not be so serious as he feared. The experienced fire-fighter would
have known better than to have inhaled any of the flame as he passed
through; and apparently from the condition of his clothes he could not
have been very seriously burned.

No sooner had cold water been applied to his face and neck than he came
to, and persisted in sitting up. His gaze wandered wistfully over to
where his wife was bending over the crippled girl so solicitously. Jack
knew, however, that no matter if the rescue had been made too late, Mr.
Badger had undoubtedly earned a right to the forgiveness of the one whom
he had so cruelly wronged in the past.

But it seemed that everything was going to come out all right, for now
he saw that the women gathered about the mother and child were looking
less alarmed. Undoubtedly Lucy was responding to their efforts at
resuscitation. She must have fallen on the floor in such a position as
to keep her from inhaling much less smoke than would have been the case
had she remained on her feet. The air is always found to be purer near
the floor during a fire, as many a person trapped within a burning
building has discovered.

Now Mrs. Badger had started back toward the spot where the rescuer lay.
Perhaps some appealing word from Fred had caused her to remember what
she owed to the savior of her crippled child.

Mr. Badger saw her coming; trust his eager eyes for that. He managed to
struggle to his feet, and stood there waiting; but he need not have
feared concerning the result. What he had done this night had forever
washed out the bitterness of the past. All the former tenderness in her
heart toward him was renewed when she hurried up, and taking one
solicitous tearful look into his blackened face, threw herself into his
arms with a glad cry.

"Oh! Donald, we have lost our little home, but I am the happiest woman
on earth this night; for what does that matter when I have found
_you_ again?"

"Mary, my wife, can you find it in your gentle heart to really forgive
me?" Jack heard him ask; not that he meant to play the part of
eavesdropper, but he chanced to be very close, and was unable to break
away from such an affecting scene.

"Never speak of it again to me," she told him. "It is buried forever,
all that is displeasing. We will forget it absolutely. In saving our
child you have nobly redeemed yourself in my eyes. I am proud of you,
Donald. But oh! I hope your hurts may not be serious."

"They could be ten times as serious and I would glory in them," he was
saying as Jack turned away; but he saw the man bend down and tenderly
kiss his wife, while her arms were about his neck.

Toby, too, had heard everything. He was the possessor of a very tender
heart, and as he trotted off at Jack's side he was making all sorts of
queer faces, which the other knew full well were meant to hide the fact
that his eyes were swimming in tears, and no boy likes it to be known
that he is actually crying.

"Did you ever hear of such a fine thing as that, Jack?" Toby was saying
between sniffles. "Why, it just goes away ahead of any story I ever
read. Think of that man we believed might be a city sport, bent on
bribing Fred to throw the great game, turning out to be his own dad! I
reckon he treated his poor wife right mean some years ago, and she's
never been able to think of him except as a bad egg. But say, he
certainly has come back in the last inning, and carried the game off
with a wonderful home-run hit."

"And Toby," remarked the delighted Jack, "we can easily understand now
why that man hung around the Badger cottage at the time we discovered
him leaning on the picket fence. He was hungering for a sight of his
wife's face, and counting the minutes until Fred could find some way to
introduce the subject to his mother."

"And then about little Barbara, I rather guess he was taken with her
pretty face and quaint speech," continued Toby, reflectively. "Why, at
the time he skipped out she could not have been any more than a baby.
Well, it's all been a drama equal to anything I ever saw shown in the
movies; and in the end everything has come out well. I feel like
shouting all the way home, I'm so tickled over it."

"Another thing pleases me," continued Jack. "We needn't be bothering our
heads over Fred turning traitor to his team after this."

"That's so!" echoed Steve.

"For one," added Toby, sagaciously, "I've had a hunch, Jack, you never
could bring yourself to believe that there was anything about that same
affair. In spite of the circumstantial evidence in the case you always
kept believing Fred must be innocent. Am I right?"

"Perhaps you are, Toby, but I do confess I was considerably worried.
Fred's actions were all so suspicious; and besides, we knew that he had
great need for a certain sum of money at home. If ever I allowed myself
to fear the worst, at the same time I understood that the temptation was
great, because of his love for his mother."

"But it's all going to come out just bully now," laughed Toby. "You both
heard what Fred said about his father having made a fortune honestly in
the mines, working ever so hard, just to prove to his wife how he had
surely reformed, and wanted to show it by deeds. They'll have no need to
worry over money matters from this time out. And let's hope the prodigal
dad will make everybody so happy that they'll almost be glad he went bad
and had to reform."

The other boys had to laugh at Toby's queer way of putting it, but they
understood what he meant. The fire was still burning furiously, and
despite the efforts of Chester's valiant fighters it seemed disposed to
make a clean sweep of the cottage with its contents, all but the few
precious heirlooms Fred had been able to drag out in the beginning.

"I certainly do hope, though," Steve thought to say presently, "that
Fred won't be so knocked out by his blow on the head, and all this
wonderful excitement, as not to be able to play in our big game
Saturday."

"Gee whiz! that _would_ be a calamity for sure!" exclaimed Toby.
"Jack, you wondered whether anything else could happen to give you
trouble about your line-up against Harmony, and here it has come along.
Better have a little heart-to-heart talk with Fred, and get him to
promise not to go back on his old pals; for we certainly couldn't fill
the gap at third if he dropped out, not at this late day anyhow."

"I meant to do that without your mentioning it, Toby," responded the
other, patting his chum on the shoulder as he spoke. "I'll hang around
and try to get a chance to speak with Fred when things simmer down a
bit. But I tell you right now that boy isn't the one to go back on his
friends. He'll play if he's in fit condition, no matter how his home
conditions have altered for the better. Why, he'll be so full of
happiness, I reckon, Fred Badger will star through the whole game."

"According to all reports from Harmony," remarked Steve, drily, "we'll
be apt to need all the starring we can get. They're working like
troopers over there, I'm told, because we threw such a scare in 'em that
last game, when we got on to Hendrix, and most knocked him out of the
box."

"Well, Chester is going some in the bargain," retorted Toby Hopkins. "We
believe our team is ten per cent. better than it was last Saturday.
Donohue says he never felt so fit as right now; and every fellow on the
nine is standing on his toes, ready to prove to the scoffers of Chester
that Jack's team here is the peer of any aggregation in the whole
country, not even barring the hitherto invincible Harmony crowd. We've
got it in for Hendrix, believe _me_!"

Jack liked to hear such enthusiasm. If every member of the team were as
much inspired as Toby seemed to be, they would almost certainly prove
unbeatable. With such a spirit to back them up, a ninth inning rally was
always a strong possibility.

The fire was now beginning to die down, for the house had been pretty
well gutted, and there was little standing save the charred walls. Of
course the firemen continued to play the hose upon the smoldering pile,
but the picturesque part of the conflagration was over, and many people
had already commenced to start back home.

Numerous neighbors had offered the family temporary accommodations, and
insisted on them coming to stay until they could secure fresh quarters.
Perhaps these offers were all of them wholly sincere, though it would
perhaps have been only human for some of the good women to be a bit
curious concerning the unexpected appearance of Mr. Badger on the scene,
whom they had all believed to be dead; and they might relish hearing
about the family reunion; though Jack could well believe little would
ever be told reflecting on the good name of the repentant husband and
father.

He managed to find a chance to speak with Fred, and the squeeze of his
hand told the other how much Jack sympathized with him, as well as
rejoiced over the happy ending of all Fred's troubles.

"Will I stand by you fellows, and work in that game, are you asking me,
Jack?" he ejaculated, presently, when the captain had found a chance to
put his question. "Why, wild horses couldn't drag me away from that
baseball field. This glorious thing that has come to my dear mother and
the rest of us just makes me feel like I could perform better than ever
in my life. Make up your mind, Jack, old fellow, Little Fred will be on
guard at that third sack on Saturday, barring accidents, and trying to
put up the game of his young life. Why, I'm just bubbling over with joy;
and I feel like I ought to do my little part toward putting Chester on
the map as a center for all boys' sports."

And when later on Jack wended his way toward home, accompanied by Toby
and Steve, he felt more positive than ever that a great future was
beginning to loom up for the boys of Chester; and the winning of the
coming contest would be a gateway leading into the Land of Promise.

CHAPTER XVIII

HENDRIX AGAIN IN THE BOX

On Friday there was a light fall of rain that gave the boys of Chester a
fear lest the great game be postponed. It turned out that this was a
needless scare, for Saturday opened with fair skies, while even the air
seemed delightful for a day in the middle of summer, with a gentle
breeze blowing from the west.

The exodus began early in the day, and after noon traffic along the main
road leading to Harmony was exceedingly heavy, all sorts of vehicles
rolling onward, from sporty cars and laden motor trucks, down to humble
wagons and buggies, with plenty of bicycles and motorcycles in evidence.

Once they arrived at the Harmony Field Club grounds, they found that
there was to be a most amazing crowd of people to cheer the respective
teams on with all manner of encouraging shouts and class yells.

There would not be any change in the line-up of Chester, for luckily all
the boys had come through the grilling work of the past week without
encountering any serious injuries. Harmony had not been quite so lucky,
for their efficient third baseman, Young, had had his collarbone
fractured during practice, and would be incapacitated from service the
balance of the season.

In his place, a fellow by the name of Parsons was expected to guard
third. None of the Chester boys remembered ever having seen him work, so
they were utterly in the dark as to his abilities. The Harmony fellows
gave out mysterious hints about the "great find" they had made in
picking up Parsons, who was a most terrific batter, as well as a dandy
third-sacker. He was very likely, they claimed, to break up the whole
game by his way of slamming out three-baggers every time he stepped up
to bat.

Of course few Chester boys really believed all this high talk. They
understood very well that if a weakness had really developed in
Harmony's infield, it would be policy on the part of the local rooters
to try to conceal the fact, so that the Chester batters might not focus
all their hits in the direction of third. Nevertheless, the boasting of
the Harmony fans gave more than one visitor a cold feeling around the
region of his heart. He watched Parsons in the practice before the game
was called, and every little stunt which he performed was horribly
magnified in their eyes.

Fortunately, Mr. Merrywether, the impartial umpire, was able to
officiate again, which fact pleased both sides. They knew they could be
sure of a square deal at his hands, and that was all any honest ball
player could ask. When the public understands that an umpire always
tries to do his duty as he sees it, and cannot be swerved from his path
by any hoodlum tactics, they seem to feel a sort of affection for such a
man, who is an honor to his chosen profession.

Long before the time came for play to begin every seat was taken, and
hundreds were standing; while every avenue leading to the enclosed
grounds seemed to be choked with hurrying, jostling throngs. They were
anxious to at least get within seeing distance of the diamond, where
they could add their voices to the cheers bound to arise as brilliant
plays were pulled off by either side.

This was certainly the biggest event in the line of boys sports that had
ever occurred at or near Harmony. Such a vast outpouring of people had
never before been seen. Chester was represented by hundreds of her best
citizens, attended by their wives. And really it would be hard to think
of a Chester boy over ten years of age who had not managed somehow or
other to get over, so as to watch how Jack Winters and his team came out
in the conclusive game with the great Hendrix.

All species of noises arose all around the field, from a myriad of
automobile horns and frequent school yells given under the direction of
the rival cheer captains, who stood in front of the bleachers, and waved
their arms like semaphores as they led their cohorts in concert,
whooping out the recognized yells of either Harmony or Chester.

The pitchers were trying out in one corner of the grounds in full view
of the entire mass of spectators. Many curious eyes watched them limber
up their arms for the work before them. Besides Hendrix and Donohue
several reserve pitchers on either side were in line, sending and
receiving in routine; but of course never once delivering their
deceptive curves or drops, lest the opposing players get a line on their
best tricks, and prepare to meet them later on.

No one had any doubts concerning who was slated to occupy the box. It
was bound to be the same batteries as in the last game, Hendrix and
Chase for Harmony, Donohue and Mullane for Chester. If for any reason
either of these star pitchers should be so unfortunate as to get a
"lacing," then possibly one of the substitutes might be introduced so as
to save the day; but there was a slim chance of any such thing coming to
pass.

Jack had no reason to feel discouraged. To be sure, he had passed
through quite a strenuous week, and been worried over a number of his
leading players; but after all, things had turned out very well. Now
that the great day had arrived, he believed every fellow on the nine was
feeling first class.

There was Donohue, for instance, who had been on the verge of throwing
up his job as pitcher because he believed he would be over in Harmony
when the day arrived, living there for good; but Jack had fixed all
that, so that he was now firmly settled as a citizen of Chester, and
could put his whole heart into his work in the box.

Joel Jackman had come close to drowning, but it was Jack who had been
instrumental in rescuing him when he caught that cramp in the cold water
of the lake; and, so far as appearances went, Joel was feeling as he
declared, "just prime." He ran after the loftiest flies that were
knocked his way as though he had the speed of the wind; yes, and not
once was he guilty of a flagrant muff, though some of those balls called
for an exhibition of agility and skill bordering on genius.

Lastly, there was Fred Badger, who had also given Jack many a heartache
since the last tie game with Harmony; but Fred was jumping around his
favorite third sack, smothering every grounder that sped his way, and
pegging to first with a promptness and accuracy that made some of the
Harmony fans shiver as they thought of how easily their fastest runner
would be caught miles from the base by such wonderful playing as that,
provided Fred could do as well in the real game.

The time was close at hand for the umpire to call play, and of course
there was an eagerness as well as a tinge of anxiety running through the
crowds of spectators. In a hotly contested game such as was very likely
to develop, often a little thing will seem like a mountain; and upon a
mere trifle the fate of the contest may in the end depend. Should any
one of the players "crack" under the strain, such a thing was likely to
settle the controversy for good.

Since there was such a monstrous crowd present that ropes had to be used
to keep them from surging on to the field, of course ground rules had to
be arranged in advance. This was certain to work a little in favor of
the home team. For instance, every Harmony batter knew that a hit toward
right would send the ball into the near bleachers, which feat would
count for two bases; whereas, if the ball were free to travel, it might
be fielded back in time to hold the runner at first. Then again, a
little more steam would send the horse-hide careening over right-field
fence for a home-run. Doubtless Harmony batters had practiced for just
such special hits many, many times; whereas, the Chester fellows, being
almost green to the grounds, would be apt to hit as they were accustomed
to doing at home.

Jack, like a wise general, saw this opening, and one of the first things
he did in giving counsel to his players was to point it out to Big Bob
Jeffries, Joel Jackman, Steve Mullane and the rest of the heavy
sluggers.

"Start them for right field every time you can, boys," he advised. "It
doesn't take so much of a tap to put them across the fence there; and if
you can't get so far land a few in the bleachers for a double."

"How about the third sack, Jack?" asked Phil Parker. "You know I'm a
great hand to knock across the line there. Some get into foul territory,
passing outside the bag; but when they do go over squarely they always
count for keeps. Do you believe half they're saying about that Parsons
being a regular demon for grabbing up ground scorchers, and tossing
fellows out at first?"

"None of us will know until we make the test," Jack told him. "Start
things up lively for Mr. Parsons the first time you face Hendrix, Phil.
If we find he's all to the good there, we'll change off, and ring in a
new deal. But somehow I seem to have a sneaking notion that same Parsons
will turn out to be the Harmony goat in this game. They've done their
best to replace Young; and now hope to hide the truth by all this
bragging."

"I wouldn't be at all surprised if what you say turns out to be a fact,
Jack," remarked Steve. "You know we read a whole lot these days about
the war over in Europe, and how the French have a masterly way of hiding
their big guns under a mattress of boughs, or a painted canvas made to
represent the earth, so that flying scouts above can't see where the
battery is located. Well, perhaps now Harmony, in making all this brag
is only trying to hide their gap. Camaflouge they call it, I believe.
But we'll proceed to see what Parsons has got up his sleeve. You watch
me get him to guessing. If he gets in the way of the cannonball I shoot
at third, it'll feel like a hot tamale in his hands, believe me."

"Well, there's Mr. Merrywether going to announce the batteries, and so
we'll have a chance to see what we can do at bat, for of course Harmony
takes the field first. Every fellow fight tooth and nail for Chester. We
want to go home this afternoon in a blaze of glory. Win or lose, we must
show that we are a credit to our folks. That's all I've got to say as a
last word; every fellow on his toes every second of the time, at bat,
and in the field!"

The umpire raised his voice, and using a megaphone proceeded to announce
that the opposing batteries of the two rival teams would be:

"Hendrix and Chase for Harmony; Donohue and Mullane for Chester!"

A storm of approval greeted the announcement. Everybody settled back as
though relieved, and confident that no matter who won, they would see a
game well worth patronizing.

Hendrix received the new ball, and proceeded to send a few swift ones to
his basemen. They of course managed to drop it on the ground as often as
they could, so that it might be dextrously rolled a bit, and discolored,
for it is always considered that a new ball works in favor of the
batter.

Jack was the first man to face Hendrix, as he led the batting list. From
all over the place loud cries greeted the captain of the Chester team as
he stepped up to the plate, and stood there with his bat on his
shoulder. Of course most of these encouraging cries came from the
faithful Chester rooters; but then there were fair-minded fellows of
Harmony who believed in giving due credit to an honorable antagonist;
and Jack Winters they knew to be such a type of boy, clean in everything
he attempted, and a true lover of outdoor sports.

"Play ball!"

Hendrix took one last look all around. He wished to make sure that his
fielders and basemen were just as he would have them placed. He knew
that Jack could wield a bat with considerable skill; and moreover had
proved his ability to solve his delivery on that former occasion. So
proceeding to wind up he sent in the first one with sizzling speed, and
a sharp drop.

CHAPTER XIX

THE LUCKY SEVENTH

"Strike One!" announced the wideawake umpire, in his stentorian voice.

Subdued applause ran through the immense throng. Apparently Hendrix had
perfect control over the ball. That wonderful drop had been too quick
for Jack, who, considering that it was entirely too high, had not
struck. Perhaps, though, he was waiting to see what Hendrix meant to
feed him.

The next one went wide in a curve that elicited murmurs of admiration
from the sages of the ball game, who invariably insisted on sitting in a
direct line with catcher and pitcher, their one occupation being to
gauge the delivery, and shout out approval or disdain over every ball
that comes along; or else plague the umpire because his decision differs
from their wonderful judgment.

Then came the third toss. Jack stepped forward, and before the break
could occur he had met the twisting ball with the point of his bat,
sending it humming down toward short.

Bailey was on his job, and neatly smothered what might have been a
splendid single. When Jack reached first after a speedy rush, he found
the ball there ahead of him gripped in Hutching's fist, and was greeted
with a wide grin from the astute first baseman.

"One down!" remarked Toby Hopkins, as Phil Parker toed the mark, and
watched the opposing pitcher like a hawk, meaning to duplicate Jack's
feat if possible, only he aspired to send the ball through the infield,
and not straight at a man.

"But Jack got at him, you noticed," said Joel Jackman, who did not seem
to be showing any signs of his recent adventure in the chilly waters of
the lake. "Hendrix may be a puzzle to a good many fellows, but once you
solve his tricks well, say, he's as easy as pie at Thanksgiving."

Well, Joel had a chance that very inning to show what he meant, for
while Phil reached first on a Texas leaguer, and Herbert Jones whiffed
vainly at three balls that came over the plate with lightening speed,
there were only two out.

Joel made a swing at a wide one on purpose, for he had received the
signal from Phil that he meant to make a break for second when next
Hendrix started to wind up to deliver the ball. Luck was with Phil,
thanks partly to the great slide with which he covered the last ten feet
of ground; and also to the fact that the generally reliable Chase,
Harmony's backstop, managed to draw the second baseman off his bag to
stop his speedy throw.

Hendrix showed no signs of being alarmed. He tempted Joel to take a
chance at a most deceptive drop, which put the batter two in the hole
with just as many balls called on the box-man.

With the next toss, Joel, meaning to emulate Jack's manner of stepping
forward and meeting the ball before the break came, entirely
miscalculated Hendrix' scheme. As a consequence, the ball, instead of
being a sharp drop, seemed to actually _rise_ in the air, and in
consequence, Joel missed it by half a foot.

He went to his position out in centre, fastening his glove, and shaking
his head.

"How'd you find Hendrix today, Joel?" asked Oldsmith, the Harmony
middle-field man, as they passed on the way. "Some stuff he's got on
that ball, hey?"

"That last was certainly a new one for me," confessed Joel, frankly.
"Why, honest to goodness, it seemed to jump up in the air just before I
swung."

"Sure, that's the new jump ball he's been practicing lately," grinned
Oldsmith, though whether he really believed such a thing himself or not
was a question, for he seemed to be a practical joker. "Old Hendrix is
always hatching up something fresh, for the other side. You fellows
needn't expect to do much running today, for most of you will only whiff
out at the rubber. He's got your number, all right."

Of course that did not bother Joel very much. He knew how prone baseball
players are to boast when things are turning their way; and at the same
time find all sorts of plausible excuses when the reverse tide begins to
flow against them.

Donohue seemed to be at his best, for he immediately struck out the
first man who faced him, tossing up just three balls at that. This was
quite a creditable performance the Chester rooters kept telling their
Harmony neighbors, considering that he was no veteran at this sort of
thing, and Hutchings could usually be counted on as a dependable hitter.

Clifford fared but little better, though it was through a lofty foul to
right field which Big Bob easily smothered, that he went out. Then
Captain Martin tried his hand, and he, too, seemed unable properly to
gauge the teasers that Donohue sent in, for after fouling several, he
passed away on the third strike.

The crowd made up its mind that it was going to be a pitchers' duel in
earnest. Many would go the way of those who had been unable to meet the
puzzling curves and drops that had come in by turns.

When next the Chester boys tried their hand, Toby got his base through
Parsons juggling the hot grounder which came his way, and failing to
send it across the diamond in time to nip the runner. The Chester folks
took notice of this error on the part of the third baseman, who had been
touted as a wonder at snatching up everything that came his way,
regardless of its character. Still, that had been a difficult ball to
handle, and the error was excusable, Jack thought.

There was no run made, though Big Bob did send out a terrific drive that
under ordinary conditions should have been a three-bagger at least.
Oldsmith, after a gallant sprint at top speed, was seen to jump into the
air and pull the ball down. He received a storm of applause, for it was
a pretty piece of work; and Chester fans cheered quite as lustily as the
home crowd; for, as a rule, baseball rooters can admire such splendid
results regardless of partisanship.

Badger struck out, in his turn, being apparently unable to solve those
puzzling shoots of the cool and smiling master in the box. But then
Harmony was no better off in their half of that inning, for not a man
got as far as second; though O'Leary did send up an amazing fly that
dropped squarely in the hands of Big Bob. The other two only smashed the
thin air when they struck, for they picked out wide ones, and let the
good balls shoot over the edges of the plate like cannonballs.

"Notice one thing," said Jack to several of the Chester players when
once more it was their turn at bat. "Every Harmony fellow turns partly
toward the right when he bats. That's the short field in this enclosure,
and with the bleachers in between. They know the advantages of sending
the ball in that direction every time it's possible. Phil, Joel and Bob,
make a note of that, will you, and try to duplicate their game? They
know the grounds, and have the advantage over us."

"Watch my smoke, Governor," chuckled Big Bob Jeffries, confidently. "I'm
only trying things out so far. When the right time comes, me to cash in
with a ball clean over that short field fence. They'll never find it
again either, if I get the swoop I'm aiming for."

"Well, use good judgment when you make it," laughed Jack, "and see that
the bases are occupied. We may need a homer before this gruelling game
is over."

It certainly began to look like it when the sixth inning had ended and
never a run was marked up on the score-board for either side. Once Fred
Badger had succeeded in straining a point, and reaching third with a
wonderful exhibition of base stealing; but alas! he died there. Steve,
usually so reliable, could not bring him in, though he did valiantly,
and knocked a sky-scraper which O'Leary scooped in after a run back to
the very edge of the bleachers. Five feet further and it would have
dropped safe, meaning a two-bagger for Steve, and a run for Badger.

So the seventh started. Both pitchers were going as strong as in the
start, even more so, many believed. It was a wonderful exhibition of
skill and endurance, and thousands were ready to declare that no such
game had ever been played upon the grounds of the Harmony Field Club.

"Everybody get busy this frame," said Jack, encouragingly, as Donohue
picked up a bat and strode out to take his place. "We've got to make a
start some time, and the lucky seventh ought to be the right place. Work
him for a walk if you can Alec. And if you get to first, we'll bat you
in, never fear."

Considerably to the surprise of everybody, Donohue, instead of striking
out, managed to connect with a swift ball, and send up a weak fly that
fell back of second. Three players started for it, but there must have
been some fierce misunderstanding of signals, for they all stopped short
to avoid a collision, each under the belief that one of the others had
cried he had it. In consequence, the ball fell to the ground safely, and
the Chester pitcher landed on the initial sack.

Such roars as went up from the faithful and expectant Chester rooters.
They managed to make such a noise that one would have been pardoned for
thinking the entire crowd must be in sympathy with the visitors.
Anticipation jumped to fever heat. With a runner located on first base,
no one out, and several reliable batters coming up, it began to look as
though that might yet prove the "lucky seventh" for the plucky Chester
boys.

Jack knew that Hendrix would have it in for him. He would depend on
sweeping curves that must deceive, and try no more of that drop ball,
which Jack had proved himself able to judge and meet before it broke.

So Jack, after one swing at a spinner which he did not expect to strike,
dropped a neat little bunt along the line toward first. This allowed the
runner to reach second, although Jack himself was caught; for Hendrix
instantly darted over to first, and was in time to receive the ball
after Hatchings had scooped it out of the dirt.

But the runner had been advanced to second, and there were still two
chances that he could be sent on his way by a mighty wallop, or even a
fine single. Phil did crack out one that did the trick, and he found
himself landed on first, though Donohue, unfortunately, was held at
third. Bedlam seemed to be breaking loose. Chester rooters stormed and
cheered, and some of the more enthusiastic even danced around like
maniacs. Others waited for something really to be accomplished before
giving vent to their repressed feelings.

Next up stepped Herb Jones, with a man on third, another on first, and
but a lone out. He failed to accomplish anything, Hendrix sending him
along by the usual strike-out line.

Everything depended on Joel. A single was all that was needed to bring
in the tally so ardently desired. It was no time to try for a big hit.
Even Phil on first was signaled not to take risks in starting for
second.

Joel waited. He was fed a couple of wide ones that the umpire called
balls. Then came a fair one clean across the rubber, but Joel did not
strike. Jack made a motion to him. He believed the next would also be a
good ball, for Hendrix was not likely to put himself in a hole right
there, depending more on his dazzling speed to carry him through.

Joel struck!

They heard the crack of the bat, but few saw the ball go, such was its
momentum as it passed through the diamond. Hendrix, however, made a stab
with his glove and managed to deflect the ball from its first course.
That turned out to be a fatal involuntary movement on his part, for it
made Bailey's job in knocking down the ball more difficult. The nimble
shortstop managed to recover the ball and send it in home; but as the
runner at third had of course started tearing along as he heard the
blow, he had slid to safety before Chase caught the throw in.

And so the first tally of the game fell to Chester in the lucky seventh!

CHAPTER XX

AFTER THE GREAT VICTORY--CONCLUSION

Toby Hopkins made a gallant effort to duplicate the performance of some
of his mates. He cracked out a dandy hit well along toward the bleachers
out in right field. Again did O'Leary run like mad, or a "red-headed
meteor," as some of his admirers yelled. They saw him actually leap
amidst the bleachers, the spectators giving way like frightened sheep.
Yes, and he caught that fly in a most amazing fashion, well deserving
the loud salvos of cheers that kept up as he came in, until he had
doffed his cap in response to the mad applause.

But Harmony came back in their half of the seventh with a tally that
resulted from a screaming hit by the hero of the game, O'Leary, which
carried far over the famous right-field fence.

With the score thus evened up, they went at the eighth frame. Big Bob
got a single out in right. He was advanced to second by a fine bunt on
the part of Fred Badger, which the new third baseman found it difficult
to handle, though he did succeed in nailing the runner at first. Along
came Steve with a zigzag hit that made a bad bound over shortstop's head
and allowed Big Bob to land on third. He was kept from going home by the
coacher there, who saw that Oldsmith had dashed in from short center,
and was already picking up the ball for a throw home, which he did with
fine judgment.

Donohue was unable to duplicate his previous lucky pop-up, for he struck
out. Jack was given his base on balls, an unusual occurrence with
Hendrix. Apparently, however, he was banking on being better able to
strike out Phil Parker, which he immediately proceeded to do, so that
after all, the Chester rally did not net a run, and the score was still
a tie.

Chester went to the field for the finish of the eighth, determined that
there should be no let down of the bars. Jack had spoken encouraging
words to Donohue, and was confidently told by the pitcher that he felt
as "fresh as a daisy, with speed to burn."

He proved the truth of his words immediately by striking out the first
man to face him. Then the next Harmony batter managed to send up several
high fouls that kept Big Bob in right hustling; though he finally
succeeded in getting hold of one, and putting the man out.

The third batter hit the ball with fierceness, but Jack took it for a
line drive, and that inning was over. The ninth was looming up and the
game still undecided. Indeed, they were no better off than when making
the start, save that they had had considerable practice whiffing the
thin air.

"You see, they persist in trying to drive toward right," urged Jack, as
his players came trooping in, eager to get busy again with their bats,
so as to win the game in this ninth round.

"Yes, and they kept me on the jump right smart in the bargain," remarked
Big Bob Jeffries, wiping his reeking forehead as he spoke. "Never mind,
I'll have a chance at Hendrix again this inning, likely, if one of you
fellows can manage to perch on the initial sack. Then watch what
happens. I'm going to break up this bally old game right now."

"Deeds talk, Big Bob!" chuckled Toby, as Herb Jones stepped up to see
what he could do for a starter.

His best was a foul that the catcher smothered in his big mitt after
quite an exciting rush here and there, for it was difficult to judge of
such a twister. Herb looked utterly disgusted as he threw down his bat.
Joel Jackman struck the first offering dealt out to him, and got away
with it in the bargain. Perched on first the lanky fielder grinned, and
called out encouragingly at Toby, who was next.

Hendrix tightened up. He looked very grim and determined. Toby wanted to
bunt, but he managed instead to send a little grounder along toward
first. Joel was already booming along in the direction of second, and
taking a grand slide, for fear that the throw would catch him.

But after all Chase had some difficulty in picking up the ball, as
sometimes happens to the best of them; and while he did hurl it to
second, the umpire held up his hands to announce that Joel was safe. No
one disputed his decision, though it had been a trifle close.

Matters were looking up for Chester again. One man was down, but that
was Big Bob Jeffries striding up to the plate, with a grim look on his
face. If Hendrix were wise he would send him along on balls; but then
the pitcher had perfect faith in his ability to deceive the heaviest of
hitters.

Twice did Big Bob swing, each time almost falling down when his bat met
with no resistance. He took a fresh grip and steeled himself. Jack
called out a word of warning, but Big Bob shook his head. No matter what
Hendrix gave him, he could reach it, his confident, almost bulldog
manner declared.

Well, he did!

He smacked the very next offering of the great Harmony pitcher so hard
that it looked like a dot in the heavens as it sped away over
right-field fence for a magnificent home run.

Big Bob trotted around the circuit with a wide grin on his face, chasing
Joel and Toby before him, while the crowd went fairly wild with joy--at
least that section of it representative of Chester did. The Harmony
rooters looked pretty blue, to tell the truth, for they realized that
only a miracle could keep their rivals from running off with the
hard-fought game.

"That sews it up, I reckon!" many of them were heard to say.

There were no more runs made by Chester, for Hendrix mowed the next
batter down with comparative ease; but the mischief had already been
done.

Harmony made a last fierce effort to score in their half of the ninth.
Chase got his base on balls, and Hendrix tried to advance him with a
sacrifice, but succeeded only in knocking into a double. Then Hutchings
cracked out a two-sacker, and Clifford came along with a neat single
that sent the other runner on to third, while he occupied the initial
sack. Harmony stock began to rise. Those who had made a movement as
though about to quit their seats sat down again. Possibly the game was
not yet over. Some clever work on the part of Martin, Oldsmith and
Bailey might tie the score, when, as on the last occasion, extra innings
would be necessary in order to prove which of the teams should be
awarded the victor's laurel.

Everybody seemed to be rooting when Captain Martin stepped up. He
succeeded in picking out a good one, and with the sound of the blow
there was an instinctive loud "Oh!" on the part of hundreds. But, alas!
for the fate of Harmony! the ball went directly at Fred Badger, who sent
it straight home in time to catch Hutchings by seven feet, despite his
mad rush.

And so the great game wound up, with the score four to one in favor of
Chester. Doubtless, the most depressed member of the defeated Harmony
team would be Hendrix, who had failed to baffle those batters with all
his wonderful curves and trick drops.

On the way home after the game, with the Chester players occupying a big
carryall, their joyous faces told every one along the way how they had
fared, even if their shouts failed to announce their victory.

"This is a grand day in the history of Chester," said Jack for the tenth
time, since he shared in the enthusiasm that seemed to run through every
fellow's veins. "It will be written down as a red letter day by every
boy, young and old; for we have put the old town on the baseball map for
keeps. After this folks will speak of Chester teams with respect, for
we've gallantly downed the champions of the county two to one, with a
great tie thrown in for good measure. I want to thank every one of you
for what you've done to help out--Phil, Herb, Joel, Toby, Big Bob, Fred,
Steve, and last but far from least our peerless pitcher Alec Donohue.
Not one of you but played your position to the limit; and as to batting,
never this summer has Hendrix had the lacing he got today, so I was
privately told by one of the Harmony fans whose money has been back of
the team all summer."

"We'll make Rome howl tonight, boys, believe me!" asserted Big Bob.
"Bonfires and red lights all over the town, while we march through the
streets, and shout till we're hoarse as crows. The like never happened
before in Chester, and it's only right the good folks should know we've
made the place famous."

"What pleases me most of all," Jack went on to say, when he could find a
chance to break into the lively talk, "is the bright prospect that looms
up before us. This glorious baseball victory clinches matters. I know
several gentlemen who will now be eager to back up our scheme for a
club-house this winter, as well as a football eleven to compete for the
county championship up to Thanksgiving. And during the balance of the
summer I've got a lively programme laid out that ought to give the bunch
of us a heap of pleasure, as well as profit us in the way of healthy
exercise."

His announcement was greeted with hearty cheers, for they knew full well
that when Jack Winters engineered any scheme it was likely to turn out
well worth attention. But it would hardly be fair just now to disclose
what Jack's plans were; that may well be left to the succeeding volume
in this series of athletic achievements on the part of the Chester boys,
which can be found wherever juvenile books are sold under the title of
"Jack Winters' Campmates; or, Vacation Days in the Woods."

THE END

VICTORY BOY SCOUT SERIES

Stories by a writer who possesses a thorough knowledge of this subject.
Handsomely bound in cloth; colored jacket wrapper.

    1 The Campfires of the Wolf Patrol
    2 Woodcraft; or, How a Patrol Leader Made Good
    3 Pathfinder; or, the Missing Tenderfoot
    4 Great Hike; or, The Pride of Khaki Troop
    5 Endurance Test; or, How Clear Grit Won the Day
    6 Under Canvas; or, the Search for the Carteret Ghost
    7 Storm-bound; or, a Vacation among the Snow Drifts
    8 Afloat; or, Adventures on Watery Trails
    9 Tenderfoot Squad; or, Camping at Raccoon Bluff
    10 Boy Scouts in an Airship
    11 Boy Scout Electricians; or, the Hidden Dynamo
    12 Boy Scouts on Open Plains

For Sale by all Book-sellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of 40 cents

M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY

711 SOUTH DEARBORN STREET CHICAGO

BOY SCOUT SERIES

By

G. HARVEY RALPHSON

Just the type of books that delight and fascinate the wide awake boys of
today. Clean, wholesome and interesting; full of mystery and adventure.
Each title is complete and unabridged. Printed on a good quality of
paper from large, clear type and bound in cloth. Each book is wrapped in
a special multi-colored jacket.

     1. Boy Scouts in Mexico; or, On Guard with Uncle Sam
     2. Boy Scouts in the Canal Zone; or, the Plot against Uncle Sam
     3. Boy Scouts in the Philippines; or, the Key to the Treaty Box
     4. Boy Scouts in the Northwest; or, Fighting Forest Fires
     5. Boy Scouts in a Motor Boat; or Adventures on Columbia River
     6. Boy Scouts in an Airship; or, the Warning from the Sky
     7. Boy Scouts in a Submarine; or, Searching an Ocean Floor
     8. Boy Scouts on Motorcycles; or, With the Flying Squadron
     9. Boy Scouts beyond the Arctic Circle; or, the Lost Expedition
    10. Boy Scout Camera Club; or, the Confessions of a Photograph
    11. Boy Scout Electricians; or, the Hidden Dynamo
    12. Boy Scouts in California; or, the Flag on the Cliff
    13. Boy Scouts on Hudson Bay; or, the Disappearing Fleet
    14. Boy Scouts in Death Valley; or, the City in the Sky
    15. Boy Scouts on Open Plains; or, the Roundup not Ordered
    16. Boy Scouts in Southern Waters; or the Spanish Treasure Chest
    17. Boy Scouts in Belgium; or, Imperiled in a Trap
    18. Boy Scouts in the North Sea; or, the Mystery of a Sub
    19. Boy Scouts Mysterious Signal; or, Perils of the Black Bear Patrol
    20. Boy Scouts with the Cossacks; or, a Guilty Secret

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MOTOR BOAT BOYS SERIES

By Louis Arundel

    1. The Motor Club's Cruise Down the Mississippi; or The Dash for
       Dixie.
    2. The Motor Club on the St. Lawrence River; or Adventures Among
       the Thousand Islands.
    3. The Motor Club on the Great Lakes; or Exploring the Mystic Isle
       of Mackinac.
    4. Motor Boat Boys Among the Florida Keys; or The Struggle for the
       Leadership.
    5. Motor Boat Boys Down the Coast; or Through Storm and Stress.
    6. Motor Boat Boy's River Chase; or Six Chums Afloat or Ashore.
    7. Motor Boat Boys Down the Danube; or Four Chums Abroad

MOTOR MAID SERIES

By Katherine Stokes

    1. Motor Maids' School Days
    2. Motor Maids by Palm and Pine
    3. Motor Maids Across the Continent
    4. Motor Maids by Rose, Shamrock and Thistle
    5. Motor Maids in Fair Japan
    6. Motor Maids at Sunrise Camp

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RADIO BOYS SERIES

    1. Radio Boys in the Secret Service; or, Cast Away on an
       Iceberg ... FRANK HONEYWELL
    2. Radio Boys on the Thousand Islands; or, The Yankee Canadian
       Wireless Trail ... FRANK HONEYWELL
    3. Radio Boys in the Flying Service; or, Held for Ransom by
       Mexican Bandits ... J. W. DUFFIELD
    4. Radio Boys Under the Sea; or, The Hunt for the Sunken
       Treasure ... J. W. DUFFIELD
    5. Radio Boys Cronies; or, Bill Brown's Radio ... WAYNE WHIPPLE
    6. Radio Boys Loyalty; or, Bill Brown Listens In ... WAYNE WHIPPLE

PEGGY PARSON'S SERIES

By Annabel Sharp

A popular and charming series of Girl's books dealing in an interesting
and fascinating manner with the the life and adventures of Girlhood so
dear to all Girls from eight to fourteen years of age. Printed from
large clear type on superior quality paper, multi-color jacket. Bound in
cloth.

    1. Peggy Parson Hampton Freshman
    2. Peggy Parson at Prep School

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THE AEROPLANE SERIES

By John Luther Langworthy

    1. The Aeroplane Boys; or, The Young Pilots First Air Voyage
    2. The Aeroplane Boys on the Wing; or, Aeroplane Chums in the Tropics
    3. The Aeroplane Boys Among the Clouds; or, Young Aviators in a Wreck
    4. The Aeroplane Boys' Flights; or, A Hydroplane Round-up
    5. The Aeroplane Boys on a Cattle Ranch

THE GIRL AVIATOR SERIES

By Margaret Burnham

Just the type of books that delight and fascinate the wide awake girls
of the present day who are between the ages of eight and fourteen years.
The great author of these books regards them as the best products of her
pen. Printed from large clear type on a superior quality of paper;
attractive multi-color jacket wrapper around each book. Bound in cloth.

    1. The Girl Aviators and the Phantom Airship
    2. The Girl Aviators on Golden Wings
    3. The Girl Aviators' Sky Cruise
    4. The Girl Aviators' Motor Butterfly.

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711 SOUTH DEARBORN STREET CHICAGO