THE BEGINNING OF THE GREAT GAME

The following morning dawned clear and bright, and many a boy in the Weston school gave a sigh of relief when first he looked from his windows. The rugged hills, now covered with the highly tinted autumn foliage, displayed patches of clouds resting on their summits or creeping far up along the wooded slopes. The sun, however, would soon burn away all such slight affairs as these gray-colored floating clouds or stretches of fog, and the boys were rejoicing.

The games with the Burrs were the great events of the school year. Not only were the schools themselves of equally high standing, and in a sense rivals, but the advantage for a few years now in the ball games had been with the Burrs, and the Weston boys consequently were especially eager to win this time. As the game was to be played upon their own grounds they had a slight advantage, but all were somewhat nervous and the excitement ran correspondingly high.

There were to be recitations in the morning only. It was almost impossible for the eager lads to hold themselves to their work, but the teachers were somewhat lenient with them, and some of the ludicrous mistakes were passed over with a smile.

Indeed, it was whispered that the teachers themselves were not far behind the boys in sharing the excitement which pervaded the school, and were as desirous that the nine should win as were the players themselves.

Soon after noon autos could be seen coming along the pretty valley roads or making their way over the hillsides. But whether from hill or valley made no difference, for there was one destination for them all and that was the ball ground. Old and young, men and women, boys and girls were there, and the assembled crowd gave promise of being unusually large.

The great busses filled with the boys and girls from the neighboring school began to put in an appearance, for the rival school was co-educational in its methods, and the girls were apparently as eager and excited as their brothers. Long streamers and banners floated out from behind the well-filled machines and many of the girls were waving flags or long ribbons of the school colors, handily adjusted to a cane or some similar device.

A crowd of the Weston boys was waiting in front of the chapel for the Burr nine to come, for it was known that they were to have a special auto.

Some of the members of the Weston nine, clad in their bright new uniforms, mingled with the crowd and as a committee were waiting to welcome and conduct the visiting nine to the dressing rooms. Their efforts to appear calm and unmindful of the attention they attracted provoked a smile from some of the waiting boys, but no one begrudged them the honors which were theirs, and as they joined in the shouts and laughter which continually arose, or stopped to converse about the prospects of the nine in the coming game, the interest steadily increased.

"There they are! There they come!" suddenly some one in the crowd shouted, and in a moment the sound of the horn carried by the Burrs could be heard in the distance. In a brief time the huge auto drew up before the crowd and the Burr nine leaped nimbly out upon the ground.

"Hello, Shackford," said Tim Pickard advancing and grasping the outstretched hand of the rival captain. "Glad to see you. If we have as big a game as we have crowd, there will be something to see before night comes."

Tim proceeded to shake hands with each member of the team and then at once started with them to lead the way to the rooms which had been assigned to the visitors.

The waiting crowd parted and stood watching with undisguised curiosity the opposing nine as they filed past them following Tim. Certainly they were a sturdy lot, and the low murmurs which could be heard among the Weston boys as the others withdrew were not entirely those of confidence in the success of their own team.

Meanwhile Ward Hill had gone down to the ball ground and lay on the grass in the rear of the field in a place from which he could easily follow the progress of the game.

Beside him were Henry and Jack, both in uniforms, the latter sitting erect and occasionally pounding the ground before him with the bat he was holding in his hands. Not one of the trio was happy, and Ward least so of the three, although he was striving manfully to appear unmindful of the excitement which, though subdued, was still apparent on all sides of them.

"It's tough, Ward," said Jack; "I want to win this game, but I never went into one with such a mean feeling as I've got now. It's a shame you're not to play. It's worse than a shame. The nine needs you and I know how you feel, old fellow. Say, Ward," he added, suddenly leaping to his feet, "if you'll say the word, we'll fix Tim yet. Henry and I can go to him and declare that if he won't take you on, we're off. And he'll have to give in now, with the crowd all here and everything ready to begin."

"Yes, Ward, that's what we'll do," chimed in Henry. "It can be done now."

"No, fellows," said Ward shaking his head. "I told you I couldn't go on in that way; and then too, I'm not in practice, you know."

"Bother the practice! You'll do better without it than most of us can with it. Here they come, Ward! Say the word and the deed's done."

But Ward still shook his head. He could not bring himself to do what Jack asked. And yet how he did long to be in the game!

The appearance of the nines upon the field was greeted by a shout and the school cheers were almost deafening on every side. The banners and flags were waving, the girls were standing erect in the autos, and the entire scene was stirring and exhilarating in the highest degree. "Good luck to you, fellows," said Ward as Jack and Henry started to go and join their comrades.

Neither of them replied save by the look which they gave him and soon were with the nine.

The ground was cleared now, and the allotted time of preliminary practice for each team was given. As Ward watched the boys it almost seemed to him that he could not endure the sight. Only a year before and he had been one of the team. Even now he could feel again the thrill which he had when at the close of that famous game his mates had borne him from the field on their shoulders. But now no one seemed to care whether he played or not. And all the time there was the consciousness in his own heart that there was not a better player than he in all the Weston school.

Summoning all his resolution he left his place and took a position near the end of the long line of Weston boys who were standing well back on one side of the ground. He had seen Big Smith and Pond there, and even their company was comforting to him now.

"Hello, Ward," was Big Smith's hail as Ward approached; "I should think you would wish you were on the nine now. Do you know, I almost feel as if I could play well enough myself to take a position."

Ward made no response, though Big Smith little realized how his words had stung the troubled boy. The Weston nine had taken their positions in the field and the game was about to begin.

Ward glanced out toward left field, his old position, and his heart was bitter toward Ripley, who now was playing there. Ward knew he could fill the place much better than Ripley ever could. Indeed, his heart was so bitter that he was almost divided in his feelings between his desire for the Weston boys to win, and that Ripley and Tim should not put up a good game.

But everything was in readiness now and the hush which came over the assembly betrayed the suppressed excitement. Shackford grasped his bat and advanced to th............