CHAPTER PAGEI.— Coward! 1II.— An interruption 11III.— Mr. Tidball introduces himself 19IV.— Catcher and pitcher 30V.— An encounter in the yard 39VI.— In disgrace 47VII.— At the batting nets 57VIII.— The last straw 68IX.— Anthony studies a time-table 80X.— Flight 94XI.— Anthony makes a statement 106XII.— A fly to left-fielder 120XIII.— Joe is pessimistic 127XIV.— The mass-meeting 139XV.— Anthony on baseball 148XVI.— Jack courts the muse 156XVII.— Erskine vs. Harvard 167XVIII.— Jack at second 176XIX.— Anthony tells a secret 184XX.— Stolen property 194XXI.— Off to Collegetown 203XXII.— At the end of the sixth 213XXIII.— A triple play 223XXIV.— Weatherby’s inning 239CHAPTER ICOWARD!University Baseball.—All men who wish to try for the team report in the cage on Monday, February 25th, at 3.30 sharp.Jos. L. Perkins, Capt.Jack Weatherby, on his way out of the gymnasium, paused before the bulletin-board in the little drafty hall and read the call.“That’s next Monday,” he muttered. “All right, I’ll be there.”Then, putting a shoulder against the big oak door, he pushed his way out on to the granite steps and stood there a moment in scowling contemplation of the cheerless scene. Before him the board-walk was almost afloat in a shallow rivulet of melted snow that filled the gravel-path from side to side. A few steps away the path ended at the Washington Street gate in a veritable lake. The crossing was inches deep in water and the Common was a dismal waste of pools and streams out of which the soldiers’ monument reared itself as though agonizedly searching for a dry spot to which to move. There was an incessant and monotonous dripping and trickling and gurgling as the snow, which two days before had covered the ground to a depth of over a foot, disappeared as by magic under the breath of an unseasonable south wind. The sky was leaden and lowering, and against it the bare branches of the numberless elm-trees swayed complainingly. The Common and so much of the college grounds as was in sight were deserted. Altogether it was a dispiriting prospect that met Jack’s eyes, and one little likely to aid him in the task of fighting the “blues,” which had oppressed him all day.He went listlessly down the steps, heroically striving to whistle a tune. But the tune had died out ere the sidewalk was reached. He looked with misgiving from the crossing to his shoes—shoes which even when new had been scarcely adapted to wet weather—and after a moment of hesitation gave up the idea of taking the usual short cut across the Common, and went on down Washington Street. As he began to pick his way gingerly across the wet pavement at the corner of Elm Street, two men ran down the steps of a boarding-house. They were talking in high, excited tones, and Jack could hear them until they had gone some distance toward the railroad.