"Let me tell you something, fellows.

I was down in Paul Kramer's sporting emporium just last evening, when who should walk in but Big Ed.

Patterson, the Allandale pitcher, who came so near to downing us last summer.

He looks as fine as silk, and told me privately he calculates on carrying off that prize offered for hammer throwing, because that is his pet hobby, you see.

Yes, and more than that, he said they were all crazy up at his 'burg' over the big meet, boys being out practicing every sort of stunt, even to road-running by moonlight." "That sounds good to me," Hugh observed, not appearing to show any sign of alarm over the stirring news.