promised to make it a day long to be remembered with their collective
noise and hearty concerted shouting.

Already the two teams were in evidence, Scranton being at practice,
with the use of the field for fifteen minutes. Some were knocking
out flies and fierce ground balls to the fielders; while the catcher
varied the monotony of things by sending down speedy balls to second
to catch an imaginary runner from first, after which Julius Hobson or
Owen Dugdale would start the ball around the circuit like lightning
before it reached the hand of the batter again.

All this preliminary work was being watched with more or less interest
by the vast crowd of spectators. There were many who pretended to be
able to gauge the capacity and fielding power of a club in this stage,
but experienced onlookers knew the fallacy of such a premature
decision. Often the very fellows who displayed carelessness in
practice would stiffen up like magic when the game was actually
started, and never make a sloppy play from that time on, their throwing
being like clock-work and their stopping of hard hit bounders simply
gilt-edged.

The umpire was on the ground, and would soon be donning his mask for
work behind the bat. He was a former Yale graduate, and as he lived
in Jenkintown, would not be inclined to favor any one of the three
clubs representing the High School League. Besides, Mr. Hitchens
was a man held high in esteem by everyone who knew him, and his
decisions were not likely to be questioned, since everyone felt certain
he would be strictly impartial, and say what he believed to be so.

When the time limit had expired the players came in, and the two