"Thank you, Roger," Thorpe replied, with a slow smile, "but I think we're going to make it interesting for you fellows, anyway." "Quit your kidding," grinned Brennan, with a facetious poke in the ribs, and strolled back to the bench. The gong rang, the field cleared, and the visiting team came to the bat. Larry, who had finished the season in a blaze of glory as the leading batsman of the National League came up to the plate, swinging three bats. He threw away two of them, tapped his heels for luck and grinned complacently at the Denver pitcher. "Trot out the best you've got, kid," he called, "and if you can put it over the plate I'll murder it." CHAPTER X BY A HAIR The pitcher, a dark-skinned, rangy fellow, wound up deliberately and shot the ball over. It split the plate clean. Larry swung at it--and missed it by two inches. He looked mildly surprised, but set it down to the luck of the game and squared himself for a second attempt. This time he figured on a curve, but the boxman out-guessed him with a slow one that floated up to the plate as big as a balloon. Larry almost broke his back in reaching for it, but again fanned the air. The visiting players, who had looked on rather languidly, straightened up on the bench. "Some class to that pitcher," ejaculated Willis. "It isn't often that a bush leaguer makes a monkey out of Larry," replied Burkett. "I've seen these minor league pitchers before," grinned "Red" Curry. "They start off like a house afire, but about the fifth inning they begin to crumple up." The third ball pitched was a wide outcurve at which Larry refused to bite. He fouled off the next two and then swung savagely at a wicked drop that got away from him. "You're out," called the umpire as the ball thudded into the catcher's mitt, and Larry came back a little sheepishly to his grinning comrades on the bench. "What's the matter, Larry?" queried Iredell, as he moved up to make room for him. "Off your feed to-day?" "You'll find out what the matter is when you face that bird," snorted Larry. "He's the real goods, and don't you forget it." Denton, the second man in the batting order, took a ball and a strike, and then dribbled an easy roller to the box, which the swarthy pitcher had no trouble in getting to first on time. Burkett, who followed, had better luck and sent a clean single between first and second. A shout went up from the Giant bench, which became a groan a moment later, when a snap throw by the pitcher nailed Burkett three feet off the bag. The half inning had been smartly played and the Giants took the field with a slightly greater respect for their opponents. Joe had pitched the day before, and it was up to Fraser to take his turn in the box. He walked out to his position with easy confidence. He was one of the best pitchers in either league, and it was he who had faced Joe in that last battle royal of the World's Series and had gone down defeated, but not disgraced.