Tom Parsons, after chapel, introduced himself to Dr. Churchill and the proctor, and was properly enrolled on the college books. He was assigned to his classes, and soon began to feel himself at home among the students.
"Well, are you going?" asked Sid of Tom that afternoon, as they came from the last recitation.
"Going where?"
"To the baseball meeting. Didn't you see the notice?"
"No."
His roommate showed it to Tom. It was a note on the bulletin board in the gymnasium, stating that all interested in the baseball nine, whether as players or as supporters, were invited to meet in the basket-ball court that afternoon.
"Of course I'm going," declared Tom.
The size of the throng that gathered in the gymnasium was proof enough of the interest taken in affairs of the diamond by the Randall students. There was talk of nothing save bases, balls, strikes, sacrifices, bunts, home runs, fielding, pitching, catching, and what-not. Langridge called the meeting to order, and in a few words explained that the object of it was to get the team in shape for the spring games.
"I understand that there are a number of new men with us this year," he went on in easy tones. There was no use in denying that the well-dressed
