The Young Pitcher | Page 4

baseball captain,
too. You slugged him!... Great!"
Ken's spirit, low as it was, sank still lower. What miserable luck he had!
His one great ambition, next to getting his diploma, had been to make
the varsity baseball team.

II
A GREAT ARM
The shock of that battle, more than the bruising he had received,
confined Ken to his room for a week. When he emerged it was to find
he was a marked man; marked by the freshmen with a great and
friendly distinction; by the sophomores for revenge. If it had not been

for the loss of his baseball hopes, he would have welcomed the chance
to become popular with his classmates. But for him it was not pleasant
to be reminded that he had "slugged" the Sophs' most honored member.
It took only two or three meetings with the revengeful sophomores to
teach Ken that discretion was the better part of valor. He learned that
the sophomores of all departments were looking for him with deadly
intent. So far luck had enabled him to escape all but a wordy bullying.
Ken became an expert at dodging. He gave the corridors and campus a
wide berth. He relinquished his desire to live in one of the dormitories,
and rented a room out in the city. He timed his arrival at the university
and his departure. His movements were governed entirely by painfully
acquired knowledge of the whereabouts of his enemies.
So for weeks Ken Ward lived like a recluse. He was not one with his
college mates. He felt that he was not the only freshman who had
gotten a bad start in college. Sometimes when he sat near a sad-faced
classmate, he knew instinctively that here was a fellow equally in need
of friendship. Still these freshmen were as backward as he was, and
nothing ever came of such feelings.
The days flew by and the weeks made months, and all Ken did was
attend lectures and study. He read everything he could find in the
library that had any bearing on forestry. He mastered his text-books
before the Christmas holidays. About the vacation he had long been
undecided; at length he made up his mind not to go home. It was a hard
decision to reach. But his college life so far had been a disappointment;
he was bitter about it, and he did not want his father to know. Judge
Ward was a graduate of the university. Often and long he had talked to
Ken about university life, the lasting benefit of associations and
friendships. He would probably think that his son had barred himself
out by some reckless or foolish act. Ken was not sure what was to
blame; he knew he had fallen in his own estimation, and that the less he
thought of himself the more he hated the Sophs.
On Christmas day he went to Carlton Hall. It was a chance he did not
want to miss, for very few students would be there. As it turned out he
spent some pleasant hours. But before he left the club his steps led him

into the athletic trophy room, and there he was plunged into grief. The
place was all ablaze with flags and pennants, silver cups and gold
medals, pictures of teams and individuals. There were mounted sculls
and oars, footballs and baseballs. The long and proud record of the
university was there to be read. All her famous athletes were pictured
there, and every one who had fought for his college. Ken realized that
here for the first time he was in the atmosphere of college spirit for
which the university was famed. What would he not have given for a
permanent place in that gallery! But it was too late. He had humiliated
the captain of the baseball team. Ken sought out the picture of the last
season's varsity. What a stocky lot of young chaps, all consciously
proud of the big letter on their shirts! Dale, the captain and pitcher, was
in the centre of the group. Ken knew his record, and it was a splendid
one. Ken took another look at Dale, another at the famous trainer,
Murray, and the professional coach, Arthurs--men under whom it had
been his dream to play--and then he left the room, broken-hearted.
When the Christmas recess was over he went back to his lectures
resigned to the thought that the athletic side of college life was not for
him. He studied harder than ever, and even planned to take a course of
lectures in another department. Also his adeptness in dodging was
called upon more and more. The Sophs were bound to get him sooner
or later. But he did not grow resigned to that; every dodge and flight
increased his resentment. Presently