At last the procession arrived at the athletic field and there broke up
for the baseball game with the sophomores. The grand stand was already
filled with the people and students that had watched the march, and, as
soon as Will and Foster had donned their baseball suits, for both had
been selected to play on the freshman nine, they appeared upon the
field, where already the other members of the team were awaiting their
coming.

"I didn't see Peter John, did you, Foster?" inquired Will.

"No. It'll be all the worse for him, I fancy."

"No doubt about that. What are we going to do with him, Foster?"

"Nothing."

"I don't like to see the chap suffer for his own foolishness."

"Neither do I. But he'll have to learn for himself. You can't tell him
anything."

"You can _tell_ him all right enough, but I'm afraid that's all the good
it does. You might as well try to polish sponge."

The conversation ceased as the call for the game to be begun was heard
and both boys hastened to take the positions in which they were to play.
The noise among the spectators increased as the signal was given, but
for three innings both nines played earnestly and seriously. At the end
of the third inning, with the score standing five to four in favor of
the sophomores, a radical change was made. The batter was blindfolded