Vagabond loosened his tie knot the least bit, threw away his cigarette. At the plate the coach hefted the fungo bat, swung through easily, and looped the ball to the leftfielder.

He had seen the notice in the dining hall that morning--"The House softball team will report for practice immediately after vacation." He had come across the river to gobble up a few grounders, loosen up the ol' flipper, curve a few over. . . have it in there, Vag, boy, just lay it in there, no hitter no sticker boy, have it in. . . "Vagabond, who pitched nine scoreless frames against Dudley, also was a titan at the plate, blasting in all six tallies for the victors who won their fourth straight House championship. . ."

The batter in the varsity uniform pushed one into right field, crossed first and took second as the fielder watched the ball scoot between his legs. Why House softball, thought Vag. Maybe with a season on the Jayvees--you never can tell, they say Bob Feller broke in real fast.

He glanced at his watch; five o'clock. Late again for cocktails. Vag broke into a slight sweat as he took a last look at the practice. Well, even if he didn't help out the team this spring, he could always kick points for Art Valpey next fall.