But the ball never got to first, for Joe had swung himself all the way round and shot the ball like a bullet to Denton at third. The local player at third had been watching eagerly the outcome of the supposed throw to first and was caught completely unawares. Down came Denton's hand, clapping the ball on his back, while the victim stood dazed as though in a trance. It was the prettiest kind of "inside work," and even the home crowd went into convulsions of laughter as the trapped player came sheepishly in from third to the bench. McRae was beaming, and Robbie's rubicund face became several degrees redder under the strain of his emotion. "Say, is that boy class, John?" Robbie gurgled, as soon as he could speak. "Never saw a niftier thing on the ball field," responded McRae warmly. "When that boy thinks, he runs rings around lightning." "And he's thinking all the time," chimed in Jim. But the peril was not yet over. The man at the most dangerous corner had been disposed of, yet there was still a man on first and another on second. A safe hit would tie the game at least, and possibly win it. Joe wound up deliberately and shot a high fast one over the plate. It came so swiftly that the batter did not offer at it, and looked aggrieved when the umpire called it a strike. The next was a crafty outcurve which went as a ball. The batsman fouled off the next. With two strikes on and only one ball called, Joe was on "easy street" and could afford to "waste a few." Twice in succession he tempted the batsman with balls that were wide of the plate, but the batter was wary and refused them. Now the count was "two and three," and the crowd broke into a roar. "Good eye, old man!" they shouted to the batter. "You've got him in a hole!" "It only takes one to do it!" "He's got to put it over!" With all the force of his sinewy arm, Joe "put it over." The batsman made a wicked drive at it and sent it hurtling to the box about two feet over Joe's head. Joe saw it coming, leaped into the air and speared it with his gloved hand. The men on bases had started to run, thinking it a sure hit. Joe wheeled and sent the ball down to Burkett at first. "Look at that!" "Some speed, eh?" "I should say so." "Matson has got them going!" The man who had left the bag strove desperately to get back, but he was too late. That rattling double play had ended the game with the All-American team a victor by a score of four to three. Joe's fingers tingled as he pulled off the glove, for that terrific drive had stung. The crowd had been stunned for a moment by the suddenness with which the game and their hopes of victory had gone glimmering. But it had been a remarkable play and the first silence was followed by a round of sportsmanlike applause--though of course it was nothing to what would have greeted the victory of the home team. "Fine work, Matson!" "Best I ever saw!" "You're the boy to do it." "Best pitcher in the world!"