CHAPTER XVII.
WHEN THE HOME FANS QUIVERED "Is Prescott going to toss!" "They say not." "It's a shame." "And there's a suspicion," whispered one of the High School speakers, "that the other name of the shame is Fred Ripley." "He ought to be lynched!" "But he claims that an attempt was made against him, also." "Ripley never was strong on the truth." Though the gossip about Fred Ripley was not general, the anxiety over Pitcher Prescott was heard on all sides.
"It'll be a sure hoodoo if Prescott can't pitch the season's first game," declared a man who seldom missed a High School game on the home diamond.
Before three o'clock the grand stand was comfortably filled.
The cheaper seats beyond held about as many spectators as they were built to hold.
The attendance, that day, was nearly three thousand.

Gardiner had sent a delegation of nearly one-tenth of this number.
Before three o'clock the band began to play.

Whenever the musicians launched into a popular baseball ditty the crowd joined with the words.
"Prescott is going to pitch!" "No, he isn't." "The word has just been passed around.

Besides, his name's down on the score card." "The score cards were printed yesterday." Finally, curiosity could stand it no longer.

A committee left the grand stand to go toward the dressing rooms building.