been turned by the batter into a home run.

"Oh, I don't know about that," replied Tom. "Harney isn't so bad. He
had a little ill luck to-day, that's all. And then, don't forget
Phelps."

"I'm not forgetting either of them. Just the same, I think you are
going to make the nine."

The next day, Tom was put in as pitcher on the scrub, while Dare
Phelps occupied the box for the regular nine. For the first six
innings, it was a nip-and-tuck battle between the two pitchers. But
from that time on, Dare Phelps seemed to go to pieces, while Tom
struck out man after man. As a result, the score at the end of the
game stood 4 to 10 in favor of the scrub.

"Tom, I think that settles it!" cried his brother, as he rushed up and
took the other by the shoulder. "You certainly held them down in great
shape."

"And say, didn't the scrub bang Phelps all over the diamond!" broke in
another student. "My, he must feel pretty sore!" And evidently this
was true, because a minute later Dare Phelps left the diamond and
disappeared from view. Nearly everybody in the college had watched the
games between the scrub and the regular nine; and that night the
concensus of opinion seemed to be that Tom ought to pitch for the
regular team.

"You'll have to do it, Tom," said Bob Grimes, when he called on the
older Rover in the morning. "Phelps acknowledges that you are a better