"That was a hard game for Macklin to lose, fellows " "I should say it was, Herb." "He nearly pitched his head off, too. Wow how they did come in like cannon balls " "And talk about curves and drops, Little Clarence was roight there wid the goods," said a stout boy; whose freckled face, carroty hair and blue eyes, as well as the touch of brogue to his voice, told of Irish blood. "But Jack met his hot pace, and went him one better. Clarence may be a cracker jack in the box, but he can't just come up to good old reliable Jack Storm ways, of the high school baseball club." "Oh, shucks enough of that taffy, fellows," laughed the object of this praise, as he swung the bat he was carrying; "why, you know right well I was up against the fence when they made that ninth inning rally. They had found me with the goods on. And you know who won that game for us-our never failing, heavy pinch-hitter, Buster Longfellow. When his bat got up against the horsehide I knew it was all over but the shouting for Clarence." "Wasn't he mad, though? Hurrah for Buster He's not built for a runner, they say, but he's got the batting eye. That hit was a peach " "Thanks, George. I believe I did help Brodie dash home with the winning tally. It's awful nice of you fellows to appreciate talent " The boy called Buster made a mock bow as well as he was able. He was fat and chunky, so that his baseball suit seemed moulded to his figure. While his name was understood to be Nick Longfellow, he seldom heard it save at home or in school. To his fellows he was known by such significant names as "Buster," "Pudding," and "Hippopotamus."