Ward Hill, the Senior

by Everett T. Tomlinson

Ward's first impulse was to turn quickly and leave, before his presence had been discovered. Suddenly changing his decision, he quietly turned about and striving to appear unconcerned advanced and joined the line of boys who were watching the game. He tried desperately to ignore the glances which were cast at him from the boys in the line, but he could not entirely succeed. Nor could he fail to hear some of the words which were spoken to some of the new boys concerning himself.

Just then the side was out, and as the members of the nine came slowly in from the field Tim Pickard spied him. His face lighted up with a malicious smile as he turned to his companions and said: "Here's Ward Hill, fellows. He used to be a decent sort of a player. Can't we find a place for him on the scrubs? The nine needs all the practice it can get, and he'll help us out."

"I don't care to play to-day," said Ward quietly, although he felt his cheeks flush as he spoke.

His mortification was not diminished when he saw a sardonic grin appear upon Tim's face and the brutal boy turn and wink meaningly at his fellows.

Ward stood his ground boldly, however, although in his heart he felt that he was something of a martyr. It was not just clear to him what the cause of his suffering was, but his disappointment and mortification, with which was mingled a feeling of anger, were uppermost. Not yet did he clearly see that he was reaping the harvest of the seed he had sown in the preceding year. All that came to him now was the consciousness that he was being treated unjustly, and his whole soul rebelled, although he felt entirely powerless to change the condition of affairs.

"Never you mind, Ward," said Jack consolingly, as he sought his friend's side as soon as the game was resumed, "it's all going to come out right in the end."

Ward smiled a little bitterly, but made no other reply.

"Tim's got backing enough to keep you off from the nine now, but it won't last long. We've just got to have you when it comes to the game with the Burrs, and that's all there is about it. Tim knows that as well as any one, and if he wants to he can't keep the fellows back then."

"Perhaps he can't, but it takes two to make a bargain. Maybe I sha'n't be so eager as you seem to think I will. I can't do as some of the fellows do, be just the same to everybody, no matter how they act toward me."

"I know it," said Jack quietly as he picked up a bat, having heard his name called, and advanced to face the pitcher.