"Of course I am," declared Dick, smiling. "And so, I hope, are every one of you fellows."
"I'd like to," agreed Tom Reade.
"Then don't say you'd like to; say you're going to," admonished Dick. "The fellow who doesn't quite know never gets much of any place. Just say to yourself that you're going to be one of the stars on the school team. If you have to fall into the second team—-don't be cast down over it—-but make every possible effort toward getting on the top team. That's the spirit that wins in athletics," finished Dick, sagely.
"I'm going to make the school team," announced Dave Darrin. "Not only that, but I'll proclaim it to anyone who'll be kind enough to listen. The school nine, or 'bust,' for me."
"Good enough!" cheered Dick. "Now, then, fellows, we'll all be on hand this afternoon, won't we, and on every other afternoon that we're needed?"
Dick & Co. carried that proposition by a unanimous vote.
"But see here, fellows," urged Dick Prescott, "just try to keep one idea in mind, please. There's a good deal of objection, every year, that athletics are allowed to interfere with studies. Now, as soon as the end of recess is called to-day, let's every one of us go back with our minds closed to baseball. Let us all keep our minds right on our studies. Why can't we six help to prove that interest in athletics puts the scholarship mark up, not down?"
"We can," nodded Dave Darrin. "Good! I like that idea. We'll simply go ahead and put our scholarship away up over where it is at present."
To this the other chums agreed heartily.
Luce, the coach for baseball, was one of the under submasters. He had made a record at college, for both baseball and scholarship. He was a complete enthusiast on the game of the diamond. The year before he had trained the school nine to a record that beat anything in the High School line in the whole state. His bulletin announced that he intended to try to make the coming nine the best yet. It didn't say that, in so many words, but the bulletin implied it.