for Fred. He wished Fred would n't fumble so. He could hold a hundred
difficult balls in succession, but when a critical point came, he 'd let
go of even a dewdrop. He 'd have to send him out in the field and bring
in Jones to first base. Only Jones was so excitable. He could hold any
kind of a ball, no matter how critical the play was, but there was no
telling what he would do with the ball after he got it.

Joe came to himself with a start. A pretty way of studying history! He
buried his head in his book and began:

Shortly after the Draconian reforms--

He read the sentence through three times, and then recollected that he
had not looked up the Draconian reforms.

A knock came at the door. He turned the pages over with a noisy flutter,
but made no answer.

The knock was repeated, and Bessie's "Joe, dear" came to his ears.

"What do you want?" he demanded. But before she could answer he hurried
on: "No admittance. I 'm busy."

"I came to see if I could help you," she pleaded. "I 'm all done, and I
thought--"

"Of course you 're all done!" he shouted. "You always are!"

He held his head in both his hands to keep his eyes on the book. But
the baseball mask bothered him. The more he attempted to keep his mind