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back. I don't think you need to worry about losing me, Mr. Cope."
The storekeeper rushed forward and seized the young pitcher's hand.
"Good f'r you!" he spluttered. "That's the stuff! We'll hold Bancroft's nose right to the grindstone; we'll put the wood to 'em this year. But I'm mighty sorry, on your 'count, boy; it'll be tough if you're really chucked off your college team."
"Well, we won't worry about that," laughed Locke, rising and returning the hearty handshake. "We'll have to take things as they come. It'll give me additional satisfaction now to down Bancroft. I have a personal feeling about it."
