“We’re thinking of taking out a patent on it, and we are rather proud of it. The only thing is that we find it quite hard to live up to such a fine campus.”
“Say, this is a funny school,” Clarence remarked. A number of the smaller boys were now gathered about him. They had heard of his tremendous swim down the river and of his escape from the gypsies, and made little attempt to conceal their admiration. In fact—a very unusual thing—they insisted upon being introduced.
“What’s funny about our school?” inquired one of the boys when Clarence had shaken hands with each and all.
“Why, you study here!”
“Study! What did you expect?” asked Rieler. “This isn’t exactly a health resort. All the same, study is no interruption to games. We manage to get a good deal in during each day.”
“This is our half holiday and we’re going to have a game of ball at two,” said a stocky youth with a freckled face and a substantial smile, “and the shortstop on our team is going down town to have his picture taken or some such foolishness. Will you help us out?”
“Delighted,” said Clarence. “I’ve played several positions, but shortstop is my favorite.”
Clarence, from the very outset of the game realized that he was the hero of the hour. Nearly all of the junior division boys not engaged in the game chose to be spectators.
Clarence rose to the occasion. The second batter up of the opposing team sent him a sharp grounder. He captured it on a very ugly bound, whirled it to the second baseman, who in turn threw it to first. It resulted in a pretty double play.
Then the onlooking small boys broke into cheers and yells, making at the same time lively demonstrations with legs and arms.