Bobbie's mouth tightened. "It won't be because I'm not trying," he said;
and Don went home telling himself that he knew one scout the Wolf patrol
could count on through thick and thin.

Next morning he tried to build bird-houses, but for once he could find no
pleasure in the work. His thoughts were turned on the afternoon. The
Glenrock team had a reputation as hitters, and he wondered, in spite of
what Ted had said, whether he would be able to hold his own.

When Ted had asked him to pitch for the Chester town team, he had
protested that he was only a high school player. Ted, however, had told
him earnestly that many town team pitchers were no better. Besides,
wouldn't it be fine experience to pitch against stronger batters? Weeks
ago that argument had won, but now Don made a wry face.

"Fine lot of experience it will be if they knock me out of the box," he
said.

The game had been well advertised. The Chester _Chronicle_ had carried a
story, and notices had been chalked on the bulletin board at the railroad
station. Don was sure that there would be quite a crowd.

Nor was he mistaken. Early as it was when he came to the field,
spectators were already gathering. Ted, a seasoned veteran, was calm and
undisturbed, but there was a noticeable tension among most of the other
players. Don sat on the rough bench and waited for the signal to warm up.

Presently the Glenrock players arrived. He looked at them closely and his
nerves jumped. Gosh! didn't they look big! And what big black bats!