did. He got three hits, one a two-bagger, and scored two of the twelve

runs which won the day for his side. Yes, Gerald did bravely, and Dan and Alf and Tom were proud of him, and told him so, and Gerald’s head swam with pride and delight. The final score was 12 to 9, and the Fourth Class marched off the field bearing their warriors on high and chanting pæans of victory.

The next day the Second Class Nine did what was expected of it and drubbed the First heartily. That contest didn’t occasion as much enthusiasm as the preceding one or the one which followed. The third day’s game was almost certain to go to the Second Class, but the Fourth Classmen refused to concede it and kept their enthusiasm on tap every instant. Nor, as it turned out, was the Fourth so greatly mistaken in their estimate of their team’s chances. For although the Second finally won by a safe margin, there were moments when a victory for the wearers of the brown ribbons and the wavers of the brown flags seemed not unlikely. Gerald again covered himself with glory, taking part in a double play that retired the opposing side just when it seemed about to run away with the game. And again he batted well, and if he didn’t score any runs himself he helped two others to do so. And although vanquished at last, 10 to 6, the Fourth Class went off the field cheering and quite well pleased with itself.

One morning a day or two after the final Class game Gerald met Payson, the coach, on the steps of the gymnasium. Payson nodded, as he always did when he met one of the fellows, whether he knew him personally or not, passed, and then turned back.

“Aren’t you Pennimore?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” answered Gerald.

“You played shortstop for Fourth Class, eh? Well, you’ll make a pretty fair player if you keep on, Pennimore. Next Spring you come and see me and perhaps we’ll find room for you somewhere on the squad. How old are you now?”

“Fourteen, sir.”

“Hm; well, get some more flesh and muscle, my boy, and you’ll do. By the way, I see that your father has been pretty busy.”

“Sir?”

“Oh, you haven’t seen the morning paper, I guess.”

“No, sir, I don’t read the papers much.”

“Well, you get to-day’s and you’ll find something that ought to interest you. I’m sure it would me if I were in your place,” laughed Payson. “Don’t forget to report to me next Spring.”

With a smile and a nod he passed on, leaving Gerald consumed with curiosity. He hurried over to Oxford and sought the library, but the morning papers had not yet been placed on file. But there still remained a quarter of an hour before his next recitation, and so he went on down to the station and bought a _New York Herald_. A glance at the first page explained Payson’s meaning. One of the columns was headed:

BIG MERGER OF TRANSATLANTIC STEAMSHIP LINES

LARGE INTERESTS IN BRITISH AND FRENCH COMPANIES NOW CONTROLLED BY JOHN T. PENNIMORE

BLUE CRESCENT, GLASGOW, AND FRANCO-AMERICAN LINES TO BE CONSOLIDATED WITH STEAMSHIP KING’S PRESENT HOLDINGS

GERMANY’S SUPREMACY IS SERIOUSLY THREATENED

Then followed a lengthy despatch from London containing an interview with Mr. Pennimore. But Gerald was disappointed. His father was always doing something of this sort and Gerald didn’t find anything very interesting about it. He read the article through, just as he would have read anything concerning his father, and then thrust the paper into his pocket. The only feature of the despatch that interested him was the announcement that Mr. Pennimore would sail that day from Southampton, a fact which Gerald already knew.

But if the news didn’t excite Gerald, he found that there were others who were not so indifferent. Mr. Collins stopped him in the Yard after dinner and discussed it at some length.

“A wonderful man, your father, Gerald. You must be very proud of him.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Gerald.

“Well, you don’t seem very enthusiastic,” said Mr. Collins with a smile.

“No, sir--that is--well, you see, sir, father’s always doing something of this sort. I guess it’s very clever, sir, but I don’t think I’m proud of him on that account.”

“Then why?” asked the Assistant Principal to draw him out.

“I don’t quite know,” answered Gerald diffidently. “I--I guess because he’s kind and good, sir. You see, he’s a pretty nice father, Mr. Collins.” And Gerald looked up smiling a little and blushing a little. Mr. Collins returned the smile.

“That’s so, Pennimore. And you’re right. It’s the man himself and not his success that one should admire. But big things always enthuse me, and this last achievement of your father’s is a big thing, a great big thing. We little fellows who sit at home and count our fingers have to admire the big men who get out in the world and do things.”

Gerald shook his head soberly.

“I don’t think you’re one of the ‘little fellows,’ sir,” he said. Mr. Collins laughed.

“I’m only a big toad in a little puddle, Pennimore. Your father is a big toad in a big puddle; that’s the difference. Well, and how are you getting on nowadays?”

“Pretty well, sir, thank you,” answered Gerald.

“That’s good. Come and see me if you strike a snag at any time.” And Mr. Collins went on.

The fellows, too, had heard of the Steamship King’s latest exploit and they let Gerald know it. But, whereas four months ago they might have said things that would have hurt Gerald’s feelings, to-day their allusions were all good humored. Millener came across Gerald watching baseball practice.

“Say, Pennimore,” he said gravely, “I wish you’d ask your father when you see him if he hasn’t got a steamship he doesn’t need. Just a small one will do, say eight or ten thousand tons.”

And Gerald laughed and promised.

Mr. Pennimore had written Gerald that he would be home nine days after the latter’s receipt of the letter; that he had sent orders for the opening of Sound View for the summer and that Gerald should move over there from the school dormitory as soon as he liked. Gerald was delighted at the prospect of seeing his father again, but the permission, which virtually amounted to a suggestion, to change his abode from Number 28 Clarke to the big room in the big house overlooking the Sound didn’t please him at all.

“I don’t want to live at home, Dan,” he exclaimed. “Why, that’s no fun at all! I--I want to stay here with you; and the other fellows,” he added as an afterthought.

“Well, you wait until your father comes and tell him about it,” counselled Dan. “It will only be for a couple of weeks, anyway, and I guess he won’t mind that.”

“Anyhow,” declared Gerald anxiously, “I just won’t go!”