A steady stream of men, women, boys and girls were pouring in at the entrance of the Camden ball ground, which lay in a most picturesque location directly at the foot of the mountains. It was plain that the greatest crowd of the season had turned out to witness the struggle which should place either Rockland or Camden at the head of the Knox County League.

The grand stand filled rapidly. It was a hot afternoon, but there was a draught through the grand stand, so that the upper seats were comfortable. Beyond the dusty diamond the green woods looked cool and inviting.

The ball ground was on an elevated spot, from which a view of the village and bay could be obtained. Winding through the distant line of woods the river might be seen. Away to the west loomed a range of purple mountains.

Dressed in their scarlet uniforms, the Camdens were on the field practicing. Although Bascomb was going to be on the bench that afternoon, he was warming up as if he expected to go into the box. He had cast aside cap and sweater, and was pitching all kinds of shoots to a young chap he had found willing to catch him. Woods was batting to the infield, but somebody was needed to give the outfield some work. Merriwell was called for by McDornick.

Frank was leaning on the rail down near the peanut stand, Diamond, Hodge, Browning and Dunnerwust being with him. The entire party had left the yacht to witness the game of ball, but the White Wings was being watched by a young man on another yacht that lay near her.

"Where's Frank Merriwell?" cried McDornick from the field. "Let him knock out some sky scrapers for us."

Moslof asked Merriwell to bat some to the outfield, and so Frank tossed aside his yachting jacket and advanced toward the plate.

There was a sudden burst of applause from the grand stand and it went all round the ground, bringing a hot flush to Merry's face.

"I wish they wouldn't do that!" he muttered.

Surely he was a handsome-looking fellow in his yachting suit. He selected a bat, and then, without any apparent effort, drove out a high liner for Cogern in deep center. He gave the fielders all the work they wanted.

"Here come the Rocklands!"

A great crowd was coming up the road, in the van of which could be seen the boys in gray from the Limerock City. The Rockland rooters had not been frightened away by the report that Woods and Makune would play with Camden. They were coming in a body to whoop and yell and growl for their team—yes, to fight for it, if necessary.

They poured into the ground. All the available standing room was taken, and the crowd overflowed so that it encroached upon the field. The Camdens came in and let their opponents have the field for practice.

"Fellows," smiled Frank, as he joined his friends, "this is going to be a hot afternoon."

"All of that," nodded Hodge. "It's plain there is an intense feeling of rivalry between these two towns."

"Say, fellows," put in Jack Diamond, "I haven't stopped wondering yet."

"What about?" asked Frank.

"This part of the country. You told me we would have sport down here, but I never expected anything like this. Why, there's rivers of sporting blood in this section! How do they get together such ball teams? Camden must pay Mower big money, or he would be in one of the big leagues. They must have coughed liberally to Woods and Makune, for either of those two fellows could get into a big league. Rockland has a full-salaried team, and they say she pays her men two hundred and fifty dollars a week all told. That's more money than the New England League pays."

"They don't go into anything halfway down here," smiled Merry. "I fancy the ball team is a good thing for Camden. It advertises the town, as all the games are reported in the Boston dailies, and it attracts summer visitors. A good percentage of the spectators here now are summer people."

The Rockland team began practice. They appeared more like professionals, taken as a whole, than the Camdens, nearly all of whom seemed college lads.

Practice was over in a short time, and then the home team prepared to go to bat first, and the umpire took his position and called "play."

Although the Rockland "rooters" were on hand to shout for their team, the fact that Camden had Woods and Makune made them cautious about offering bets. In fact, two of Rockland's principal "sports" were seeking to put money on Camden, but could not find takers without giving odds.

Dayguild, Rockland's champion pitcher, the man held in reserve for Camden, was sent into the box. He had seemed to hoodoo Camden, and Rocklandites hoped he would keep up the good work.

Some Thomaston men who had come over to see the game stopped near Merriwell and his party and laughed over the "snap" Camden would have that day. One of them was telling the others how easy it was to rattle Dayguild and break his courage by hitting him hard and putting two rattling coachers on the line to keep him "up in the air." Frank did not miss a word of this talk.

"Pop" Williamson was the first man to go to bat for Camden. He stood up at the plate and looked at Dayguild. Dayguild laughed at him, saying:

"Pop, you're easy."

"Pop" laughed back, observing:

"I have to be easy with you, Gil, or I'd show you up, and you would lose your job."

"That's what I call wit!" exclaimed Merriwell, in appreciation. "Pop is all right. He'll get a hit."

He did. He cracked out Dayguild's first ball for an easy single, and laughed at the Rockland pitcher as he trotted down to first.

"Thought I wouldn't put it into the woods this time, Gil," he said.

"That's a good start to rattle Dayguild if they would get after him," said a Thomaston man.

But Camden made the mistake of splitting her coachers, putting one at third and one at first, and the men did not "open up" in a way to get the Rockland pitcher on the string.

Putbury, or "Old Put," followed Williamson. He was a left-hand hitter, and a good man, but Dayguild managed to give him the "evil eye" and struck him out.

"I'm afraid you won't get away from first, Pop," said Dayguild, winking at Williamson in a tantalizing manner.

"Oh, there's lots of time," returned the runner, calmly.

Cogern followed Putbury. He fanned twice, and then he cracked out a daisy cutter that looked like a safe hit, for it got past the pitcher and was going directly over second, with Smithers, the baseman, playing away off.

But Smithers was a little fellow who could cover ground wonderfully. How he ever reached second as soon as the ball and gathered it in was a marvel, but he did the trick with an ease that brought an exclamation of admiration from Merriwell.

As he picked the ball off the ground Smithers touched second and put Williamson out. Then he whirled like a cat and sent the ball whistling to first.

Rockland's first baseman smothered it with ease before Cogern could get much more than halfway down the line, and a double play had been made, which retired Camden with a whitewash as a starter.

What a wild howl of satisfaction went up from the throats of the Rockland rooters! How they hammered on the railing and yelled! Their satisfaction was unlimited, for they had not dreamed there could be such a happy termination of the Camden's half of the first inning.

"Sorry for you, Pop," grinned Dayguild.

"It's a good thing for you there was a man like Smithers on second," returned Williamson. "It was a clean case of luck."

At this Dayguild laughed derisively, walking in to the bench.

Camden took the field. Woods stripped off his sweater and went into the box. He was a clean, fine-looking fellow in his suit. He had warmed up a little, and now he tossed a few to Williamson, who was on first.

Smithers, the captain of the Rocklands, was the first man to go to the plate. He was known to be a most remarkable little hitter, without a weak point that any pitcher had been able to discover.

Woods looked Smithers over, and then sent in a swift one that the little man let pass.

The umpire called a ball.

"Whew!" exclaimed Diamond. "That's what I call speed."

"You don'd peen aple to seen dot pall ad all, eh?" cried Hans.

"Merry," said Bart, "Woods is the first fellow I ever saw who reminded me of you in the box."

Smithers went after the next ball, but fouled it over the fence, and a new ball was put into play. Again and again he fouled.

"You are finding him," cried the Rockland rooters.

At last Smithers hit it fairly on the trade mark, and sent it out into right field for a single.

The Rockland crowd was delighted.

"Why, Woods is easy!" they roared.

Woods was not ruffled in the least. When the ball was thrown in, he entered the box with it immediately, and then suddenly snapped his left foot out and shot the ball over to first.

Smithers saved himself by a hair's breadth. It was a close decision on the part of the umpire.

"Did you get onto that motion with his foot?" came eagerly from Hodge. "It's Merriwell exactly! Why, the fellow appears more and more like you, Frank!"

"That's so," grunted Browning.

Edwards, Rockland's shortstop, followed Smithers at bat. He was a large, stocky, red-headed fellow, inclined to swagger and make more or less unnecessary talk, but a good ball player and a hard hitter.

"Don't let him catch you, Smithers," he cried. "I'll land you on third."

Woods smiled. He was feeling first rate, and he did not believe Edwards could keep his word. While standing carelessly in the box, he gave a hitch at his pants with both hands, the right hand holding the ball, and then sent a scorcher over the plate so quickly that Edwards was not prepared and did not offer at it.

"One strike!" decided the umpire.

"That's the way to fool 'em on the first one," laughed Frank Merriwell, softly. "Woods is up to tricks. Boys, that fellow is a dandy, I believe."

Smithers tried to get a good start from first, but Woods kept him close to the base, much to the delight of the Camden crowd. All Camden was confident that Rockland was doomed to defeat that day.

The second ball was a coaxer, but Edwards let it pass. Then came another swift one, and the batter went after it and missed it entirely.

The Camden crowd howled its delight.

"That's the stuff, Woodsie!" yelled a voice. "Leave Smithers on first, same as they left Williamson."

"He can't do it, you know!" sung back a Rockland rooter.

Woods was the essence of coolness. He teased Edwards with two out-drops, and then he seemed to gather himself for a speedy one. As the batting score stood three balls and two strikes, the batter felt that Woods would use a straight, swift ball and try to cut a corner of the plate.

Woods seemed to send the ball with all the strength he could command, but, strange to say, it lingered in the air, and, too late, Edwards saw it was a slow one.

The big shortstop bit at it. He smashed at it with all his strength, and he hit the ball with the tip of his bat. The coacher had sent Smithers for second on that ball when it left Woods' hand. It was too late to stop him when they saw the ball popped up into the air as an easy infield fly.

Makune called out that he would take it, and ran in under it. Edwards, who had a lame knee, ran as if sprinting for his life. The ball hung in the air a long time, while Makune stood under it, waiting for it to come down.

When it did come down it created one of the sensations of the day, for it dropped into Makune's hands and fell out. There was a roar of astonishment that this crack infielder of the New England League should drop a ball like that. Makune was the most astonished man within the inclosure of that ball ground, for he had not done anything like that before during the entire season.

Then there was a kick, as Moslof claimed that Makune dropped it purposely, and, as he had thrown the ball over to first on picking it up, Edwards was out on an infield fly, even though he had reached the base ahead of the ball.

The umpire knew his business, however, and did not get rattled. He knew that the rules declared a batter was out on an infield fly that could be handled, providing there was a runner on first; even though the fielder dropped the ball for the purpose of luring the man off first. But Smithers had left first before Edwards struck the ball and was well on his way to second, while Makune had not dropped the fly as a trick, but because he could not hold it. The umpire decided that Smithers had stolen second and Edwards was safe on first, which caused the Rockland crowd to go wild with satisfaction, while the Camdenites groaned in dismay, those who did not understand the point in the game declaring it was an outrage, and those who did feeling that the umpire understood it too well to be fooled.

Gulsiver, Rockland's center fielder, was the next batter. He went after the second ball and found it, knocking it straight at Mower. Mower was an erratic player, and, on this occasion, he stopped the ball, but he chased it around his feet long enough to permit Gulsiver to get first safely, and Smithers and Edwards moved up a base each.

The bags were full!

"That's a hard start for Camden," said Frank Merriwell, feeling his sympathy go out toward the boys in red.

"Dot Voods don'd seem to peen doin' a great deal mit der Rocklandt poys," observed Hans.

"It's not Woods' fault," declared Merry. "Smithers is the only man who has secured a hit off him."

If Woods was worried or disgusted, he did not betray it. He continued to pitch coolly and deliberately, for all the yelling of the Rockland crowd and chinning of the coachers.

He struck out the next man, and followed that up by causing Hammond, the fifth batter, to put up a low, infield fly, which Woods looked after himself and caught.

Then it was Camden's turn to howl again, for, although the bases were full, two men had been sent to the bench in a minute by the cool little pitcher in crimson.

"This looks better," said Merriwell, beginning to smile again. "I'll bet something Rockland does not score."

Shaddock was the next man at bat. Woods fooled him on a wide curve and a swift inshoot. Then Shaddock got mad and nearly broke his back hitting the ball.

The ball struck the ground near the home plate and rolled lazily down toward third. Smithers had started for home, and Woods started for the ball. As he passed the ball, Smithers tried to kick it aside, even though he was taking chances of being seen by the umpire in doing the trick. He failed to touch it, however, and, the next instant, Woods gathered it up with one hand, taking it as he ran directly from first base. Smithers was between him and the plate, and he could not see the catcher. He did not hesitate a fraction of a second, he did not even pause to straighten up, but, in a stooping position, he swung his arm low and sent the ball whistling to first. Spectators afterward declared that at no time was that ball more than two feet above the ground. It went straight to first, Williamson gathered it in, and the Rocklands were out without scoring.

Then such a roar went up to the heights of old Megunticook! The old mountain must have fancied that the Indian warriors of long, long years ago had returned and were holding a mighty powwow down there in its shadow.

Men and boys were frantic. They hammered each other on the back, they flung their hats into the air. Women screamed with joy and waved their handkerchiefs. And Woods—just then he was the hero of the moment. Scores of pretty girls were hugging each other and declaring that he was "just perfectly lovely." But he was as cool and unruffled as ever, seemingly utterly deaf to the roars of applause.

"I guess Camden is all right, after all," laughed Merriwell.

"Woods is a dandy," said Diamond.

"They do not need me to pitch for them to-day," declared Frank.

Dayguild grinned and chewed gum as he entered the box and faced little McDornick, champion base runner of the Camdens. McDornick was palpitating with eagerness to hit the ball. He hated to let the first one pass, although Dayguild sent in a wide teaser. He went for the second one, and hammered it out for two bags, although with an ordinary runner it would have been no more than a pretty single.

"Gil, you're pie," laughed Williamson, from the bench.

"You will find him hot pie before the game is over," said a Rockland man.

Moslof went to bat. He was eager, also—far too eager, for he struck at the first ball, although it was not within reach. But McDornick stole third on it, reaching the bag in advance of the ball by a beautiful lone slide.

Then Moslof batted one down to Edwards and was thrown out at first.

Mower came next. Sometimes he was a hitter. This was not one of the times. He fanned out, and still McDornick was shivering on third.

Makune faced Dayguild. It was not for the first time, as he had faced him many times before in the New England League. Although Makune was not a heavy hitter, he had done remarkable work for the first of the season, and Dayguild was afraid of him. With the ball under his arm, the Rockland pitcher turned to observe the positions of the men in the field. His back was toward McDornick.

There was a shout of warning from the crowd, and Dayguild whirled to see a figure in crimson shooting toward the plate like a streak of fire.

It was McDornick attempting to steal home!

The nerve of the act dazed Dayguild for a moment, and then he threw the ball to the catcher, thinking to put out the runner with ease.

The catcher dropped it!

McDornick made a headlong plunge for the plate, touched it, leaped up and dodged away before the catcher could pick up the ball.

Camden had scored!

Roar, roar, roar! The crowd went wild with joy. The black cliffs above flung back the burst of sound. It seemed enough to wake the dead in the distant cemetery tinder the slope of Battie. It was heard far down in the heart of the town, and it brought more spectators hurrying to the ball ground.

Williamson sat on the bench and laughed tauntingly at Dayguild, who was flustered and excited.

"Now, if they know how to do the trick, they can win the game in this inning," said a Thomaston man.

But Makune was not in good form, and he rolled one down to third, being thrown out at first, which retired Camden with one score.

But Woods pitched wonderful ball the next inning, and Rockland was given another whitewash.

By this time Dayguild had recovered his composure, and he pitched so well that Slatridge, Woods and Williamson went out in quick succession.

Then came a fatal half for Camden. Merriwell had seen Woods feeling of his elbow and working it as if it did not feel just right, and he was not surprised when Rockland fell to batting the new pitcher of the Camdens.

"Moslof ought to take Woods out," Frank said to Diamond. "He has hurt that lame arm already."

"You must be wrong, Merry," said the Virginian. "See the speed he is using. Why, I can hardly see the ball as it goes over the plate."

"Speed is all he is using," declared Merriwell, "and Rockland is eating speed. He can't use his curves, as it hurts his arm to do so."

Now the Rockland crowd had a chance to yell and laugh, and cheer, for, although Woods seemed to be pitching good ball, the "Limeburners" had donned their "batting clothes," and were hitting anything and everything. The fielders were kept busy, and Rockland players chased each other round the bases till six scores had come in.

"I said Moslof ought to take Woods out," said Merriwell, soberly. "The game is lost now."

"Woods can't be the pitcher we thought he was," said Diamond, in disappointment.

"Woods is all right if he doesn't spoil that arm," asserted Frank. "If he sticks to professional ball and takes care of his arm, he'll be in the National League before many years."1

At last Woods struck out the third man, and Rockland was retired, but not till she had secured a lead of five scores.

Dayguild laughed at Williamson as he went into the box.

"It's all over now," he declared. "Camden is buried."

"You can't tell about that," returned Williamson. "You have had your turn, ours will come."

But it did not come that day, although Woods pitched the game out and held Rockland down so that she obtained but one more score. The game finally ended seven to five in favor of Rockland.

A more delighted crowd than the rooters from the Limerock city could not be found. They guyed every Camdenite they knew. They declared that Camden was a snap for Rockland, and always would be a snap. They were insolent in their satisfaction and delight.

Down into town rushed the Rocklandites. They bought every tin horn they could find, and at least a dozen cow bells. They bought tin pans and drummed on them with sticks. They bought brooms and paraded with them to indicate that they had swept Camden clean. They made a frightful racket in the very heart of the village, and their scornful remarks about Camden and Camdenites in general were of a nature to arouse the anger of any inhabitant of the town at the foot of the mountains.

At last the cars from Rockland came, three of them being required to handle the crowd. They piled on and went out of Camden blowing horns, ringing bells, beating tin pans and howling derision.

Frank Merriwell stood on the corner near the opera house and heard all this. He could feel the blood within him getting warmer and warmer. He considered Moslof a fine fellow and he admired Woods. His sympathy was with Camden.

Moslof and Woods came down the street together and paused near Frank. Woods was making no excuses.

"They hit me out, that's all," he said. "I want to pitch against them again when this arm is rested."

Frank stepped forward.

"When do you play Rockland again, Moslof?" he asked.

"To-morrow," was the answer. "The schedule brings these two games together."

"Who will pitch?"

"I don't know. Woods can't, Williamson is not in shape, I am afraid to put Slatridge in, and Bascomb never was any good against Rockland, although he is a good man against any other team."

"You wanted me to pitch to-day," said Frank.

"Yes."

"I might not have done any better than Woods. He is a dandy, and he can monkey with Rockland when his arm is all right. I knew you ought to take him out at the beginning of the third, and I told Diamond so. I could see that his arm was keeping him working speed, and Rockland was eating speed."

"That's right," nodded Woods. "It was the best I could do that inning. No matter where I put them, they hit them out. I worked a change of pace, but that did not seem to bother them. After that inning, however, I kept them guessing."

"You pitched winning ball all through the game, with the exception of that fatal inning, and it is probable those fellows would have hammered anybody that inning. They had a batting streak, and they made the most of it."

Then he suddenly turned to Moslof, asking:

"Do you want me to pitch for you to-morrow?"

Moslof gave a jump.

"Do I want you?" he exclaimed. "I should guess yes! Will you do it?"

"I will."

Moslof seized Merry's hand.

"Old man, you have won my everlasting gratitude. To-morrow we'll put a team into the field that will paralyze Rockland. It will be such a team as Rockland or the State of Maine never saw before! Will we do 'em? Oh, say! We'll wipe 'em off the earth!"

"Oh, that's not certain," cautioned Frank. "You can't be sure of a victory till it is won. Camden thought she had a sure thing to-day."

"It will be different to-morrow," said Moslof. "If you pitch a winning game, the people of Camden will give you the whole town when we get back here!"

"Well, I shall do my best to pitch winning ball," assured Merry.

Directly after supper, which all the boys except Hans took at the Bay View, the Dutch lad being sent off aboard the White Wings, a buckboard with four wide seats came round for a party, and Merry was surprised to find that he was expected to be one of the party. Browning, Diamond and Hodge were included. The others were members of the Camden ball team.

When the buckboard was loaded the driver cracked his whip over the four handsome horses, and away they went through town, up over Harbor Hill and along the street that led toward the foot of the mountains.

Soon they were close under the cliffs of Battie. There were some splendid singers in the party, and they awoke the echoes with the old college songs.

In the cool shadows of twilight they rolled along the famous turnpike, with Battie behind them and the frowning heights of Megunticook rising directly over their heads. On Maiden Cliff, standing out against the sky, they saw the white cross that marks the spot where a beautiful girl fell to her death on the cruel rocks below. At times the winding road seemed to lead directly into the lake that they could see shimmering through the trees. It was one of the most beautiful drives Merriwell had ever taken.

They turned about finally and came back by the way of Lake City, a charming collection of cottages assembled at one of the most picturesque spots to be found around the island-dotted lake. The driver pointed out the spot where the famous Lake City Inn had stood before the fire that wiped out the beautiful summer hotel.

By this time night had fallen, but the full moon was high in the heavens, shedding a pure white light over all and giving the scene a glamour that it could not have by day. Indeed, it was so light that the cross on Maiden Cliff could be seen even better than they had seen it in the twilight.

"Now, fellows," said Moslof, "there is another place we had better visit to-night."

"Where is that?" asked several.

"The Summit House, on Mount Battie."

"Hurrah for the Summit House!" shouted the boys.

"We'll have to do some walking."

"We can walk up all right."

"I don't know about that," grunted Bruce Browning. "I came out to ride."

"It will do you good to walk."

But Bruce could not agree with Merriwell, and Moslof, laughing, said that Browning should not leave the buckboard till he was safely on the top of Battie. This relieved the big fellow's mind, and he grunted:

"All right. Go ahead."

Before they reached the foot of the mountain after leaving Lake City they turned off into a road that led back into the woods. Soon they came to the new road that had been constructed by the energy and determination of the shrewd owner of the hotel on the heights. This road proved to be even better than the boys had anticipated, but it was very steep in places, so that every man except Browning walked. As for Bruce, no amount of guying could induce him to get off and climb.

The moonlight sifted down through the trees, making white patches amid the black shadows. There was not much air, and the walking lads were perspiring freely before they were far from the foot of the ascent; but they stuck to it, and, at last, they were relieved to come out of the winding way and see the lights of the hotel before them.

With a cheer, they rushed forward toward the building.

Moslof led the way round the end, and then all stopped, uttering exclamations of admiration.

Below them in the white moonlight lay the village, the harbor, the bay, the great stretch of beautiful country. Hundreds of lights twinkled in the town, the electric street lamps showing white and clear and marking the limits of the village.

Away to the south was Rockport, her electric lamps paled by the clear moonlight. Miles beyond Rockport was Rockland, her location also plainly marked by lights. Between Rockport and Camden a lighted trolley car was flying along.

Jack Diamond drew a deep breath, and his hand fell on Frank's arm.

"Merriwell," he said, "I want to thank you for bringing me down into this country. It surely is a wonderful land at this season of the year, no matter what it may be in winter. This is the most beautiful view my eyes ever rested upon."

"Everybody says that," put in Moslof. "No matter where they have been, they say that."

"I have traveled a little over the world," said Merriwell, "and I must say this is the most entrancing view I have ever looked upon."

"I'm glad I took the trouble to come up," sighed Browning.

As they were standing there, gazing enraptured upon the scene, there was a burst of girlish laughter from the hotel. Then at least a dozen girls came out upon the veranda.

"What have we struck?" exclaimed Frank.

"It must be a party," said Moslof. "Let's go in."

Go in they did, the proprietor of the hotel meeting and welcoming them. It proved that Moslof was right, there was a party of girls up from the village, and Frank's sharp eyes found Phebe Macey was among them.

Not a few of the girls were known to the boys. Those who were not known were introduced.

"What a place for a dance!" thought Frank, as he looked the dining room over. "These tables could be cleared away, and then we——"

He caught sight of the proprietor, and, in another moment, he drew the man aside.

"If you want to dance, I'm willing," was the consent of the genial owner of the Summit House. "But where's your music? There's a fiddle here, but who can play it?"

"I'll find somebody!" cried Frank, and he rushed for Diamond.

But, before the dance could be started, it was found that the consent of the young lady chaperon who had accompanied the girls must be obtained. Frank approached her. At first she was not favorable, but Merriwell used diplomacy and finally won her over so that she consented to let the girls remain and dance an hour.

Then there was a hustling to clear the dining room floor. The old violin was brought out and Diamond proceeded to tune up.

Frank sought Phebe and asked her to waltz with him.

"I don't think I will dance," she said, pretending to pout a bit.

"Why not?" asked Merry, in surprise. "You do dance, do you not?"

"Oh, sometimes."

"And you will refuse me?"

"You deserve to be refused."

"Why, pray?" asked Frank, surprised.

"I asked a favor of you to-day."

A light broke in on Frank.

"Oh, is that it? You wanted me to pitch for Camden?"

"Yes."

"And I didn't. Well, can't you pardon me this time?"

"Really, I do not think you deserve it."

"Perhaps not, but, if I promise to do better, will you——"

"It's too late now."

"How is that?"

"Camden lost."

"And might have lost just the same if I had pitched."

"No," she said, with confidence, "I know all about your pitching. You would have won the game."

"There is another game to-morrow."

"Oh, that's in Rockland, and the Rocklands always win on their own ground."

"Is that their reputation? Well, perhaps we may be able to break the spell and defeat them on their own ground once."

"'We!' What do you mean by that? It can't be that you will pitch for Camden to-morrow?"

"Will you waltz with me if I'll agree to do so?"

"Yes," was her instant answer.

"Done!" said Frank. "I'll pitch."

Then Diamond struck into a beautiful waltz, and Frank and Phebe were the first on the floor, his arm about her waist, her hand gently clasped in his.