“Oh, I know it all depends on the ‘ifs,’” laughed Loring, “but I still think the situation called for a bunt.” “Well, but Billy wasn’t pitching high ones, maybe, and not one fellow in twenty can bunt a low delivery.” “But Billy _was_ pitching high ones,” said Loring. “He was putting them over the corners, or trying to, just under Cob’s arms. He wanted Cob to hit the ball on the ground.” “But,” asked Tom, “how the dickens was Steve to know beforehand that Billy would pitch ’em high?” “Perhaps he couldn’t have known, but he might have guessed that Billy wouldn’t feed low ones, because Cob likes that kind and might easily have sent a long fly into the outfield where it couldn’t have been handled. If I’d been Cobham I’d have done this, Tom. I’d have waited for a couple of deliveries to see what the pitcher had on his mind. Then if he was offering high ones I’d have bunted, or tried to. If I saw he wasn’t going to let me bunt I’d have faked a bunt in hopes that the infield would come in at least halfway. If it did I’d have tried to drop a hit just behind it.” “Help!” exclaimed Tom. “The old bean’s getting groggy, son! Say, where’d you get all this inside stuff? Not just reading those books?” “Well, I suppose I’ve got some of my theories from the books and some from watching play. Probably I’m cheeky to put out such a line, considering I’ve never played. It’s a wonder Coach didn’t tell me to shut up, but he didn’t. He argued it out just as though I had some sense. He was mighty decent.” “Well,” asked Mr. Cooper interestedly, “how was it decided?” “It wasn’t,” laughed Loring. “Six rounds, no decision.” “At that,” said Tom reflectively, “I think you were right, old son. Cob’s a pretty good bunter. Of course, the bunt might have gone foul or been too hard or――” “Or Cob might have stubbed his toe,” interrupted Clif. “You don’t either of you know what you’re talking about. I’m for Loring keeping out of it and letting Steve run his gang the way he thinks best so we can continue to beat you fellows, Tom, two or three times a week, for the good of your souls.” The first went to Wessex two days later and played Broadmoor, and while they were once more defeated, they won honor nevertheless. The final score, reached in the twelfth inning, was 9 to 8. Good pitching by both sides, clean fielding and bunched hits were the rule, and Wyndham’s final overthrow was entirely a one-man result.