he knock out more than a few dandy two-baggers, with men on bases? Why
should you be worried about him, Mollie?"

"Really I don't know," came the puzzling reply; "only I've heard
several people say they didn't believe Big Bob could be feeling
himself. He's been acting queer lately. Even Fred Badger admitted that
to me when I quizzed him, though he hastened to say that so far it
hadn't seemed to interfere with his playing, for he kept holding his
own right along. But something seems to tell me that if we lose this
game today it's going to be through some bungling play on his part."

"Listen, Mollie," said Lucy just then, "don't speak quite so loud,
because Bob's father and mother are just back of us, I've discovered."

"Well, that's a queer thing," said Mollie, without even turning to
look. "No one ever knew Mr. Jeffries to take the least interest in
outdoor sports before. He must have waked up from his Rip Van Winkle
sleep, apparently. I even heard that he declined to contribute a
dollar to the new gymnasium that some of the town people are building
to satisfy the craving of the boys for physical exercise, saying he
guessed boys ought to be able to thrive without all those costly
adjuncts; that as a boy he had never found the need for anything of
the sort, and that he didn't mean to squander his hard-earned money on
any such nonsense."

"Well," put in Adelaide Holliday, "whoever told you that must have
been poorly informed, or else there has been a sudden revolution in
Mr. Jeffries' beliefs; because my father, who is one of the committee
to raise funds to pay the first expense of fitting up the new gym,
with all sorts of modern appliances, said just last night at supper