"Good!" delightedly cried the Randall supporters, and the record was soon bettered for Holly Cross came up next, and, though he batted right handed, he managed to whale out a two-bagger, which brought in Sid and made the first tally for the visitors. That gave them confidence and they made three runs that inning, coming within one of tying the score. Tom, too, seemed to stiffen in his work, and he struck out three men in quick succession. "Now if we can only do as well this inning," remarked the coach, as Dutch Housenlager came up. Dutch knocked a pretty fly, and was off like the wind to first. He never would have reached it, but for an error on the part of the right fielder who muffed the ball, amid the groans of his fellows. Then, for a time, the Wescott team seemed to go to pieces, until, when the eighth inning opened, the score was tied. Goose eggs were chalked up in the frames of both teams in the eighth, however, the pitchers both working hard. Then came Randall's chance at the bat in the ninth. "One run will beat 'em, if we can only hold 'em down when they come up," muttered Kerr to Tom. "I'll do my part," the nervy pitcher assured him. It fell to Sid again, to do the trick. There were two men out, when he came up, and it looked hopeless, but he again batted left handed, and once more caught a "beaut" on the end of his bat. He got two bases on it, and, by great good luck Holly Cross, next player, whaled out what proved to be a triple, and Sid, as soon as he heard the crack of the ball, started home. As he swung around toward third base the player there perhaps unintentionally got in his way. The baseman pretended that the ball was being fielded to him, in his endeavor to throw Sid out of his calculations, but the nervy Randall second baseman kept on. There was a collision between him and the man covering the bag, and, for an instant, Sid hesitated on third, and almost fell over, seizing his left foot in both hands, and hopping about. "Sid's spiked!" cried Tom. "The third baseman spiked him, just as he had a chance to score! Come on in, Sid. Come on in!" yelled the captain frantically. There was a confusing chorus of yells, so much so that the fielder after the ball, which had gone past him, did not know what to do, after he had the horsehide. But by this time Sid was limping toward home, running fairly well, but with a look of agony on his face. Holly Cross was racing from second now. "Home with that ball, you loon!" yelled the Wescott catcher, who saw Sid coming, for the Wescott fielder was stupidly holding it. Then the fielder woke up, and threw to second, hoping to catch out Holly, who was somewhat undecided. But Sid kept on to home, and tallied the run, though he almost collapsed a moment later, while Holly leaped on to third. "Hurt bad?" asked Tom, as he and several others hurried up to Sid. "I should say so," remarked Mr. Leighton, as he saw the blood running from Sid's shoe.