The catcher walked down and conferred a moment and Smith nodded grudgingly and went back to the mound. But Smith was annoyed and off his game for once. Two balls followed in succession. Then came a foul. After that a third ball. Amesville jeered and redoubled her noise. Smith, trying his best to regain command of the ball, took much time between deliveries now, wound up slowly, and sped the ball away with care. But his time had come, for there was a smart _crack_, a streak of grey across the diamond, and the runner on second was digging for third, while down the first-base line raced the batter. Well out of the reach of shortstop or second baseman shot the ball, head-high, as clean and hard a drive to deep centre as one would want to see. Centre fielder reached it as it took its first bound, set himself, and sped the ball to second baseman and second baseman turned and pegged it to the plate. But the Blues had scored the tying run before the ball reached the catcher, and, although that youth threw well and quickly to second, the runner had taken advantage of the throw-in and was sitting comfortably, if breathlessly, on the bag! How Amesville cheered and clapped and pounded the boards with excited feet! And what a scurrying and jostling there was about the bench as Tom, conferring with Mr. Talbot, chose a hitter to go to bat for Gordon Smith. It was Pete Farrar who was at last selected. Pete, although a pitcher, was a pretty good hitter in the pinches, and it was Pete who was now to prove the wisdom of his selection. For Pete landed on the second ball offered him and sent it arching into the very right-hand corner of the field! And, although the ball was caught after a run, it didn’t reach the infield again until the runner from second was sliding to third! One out, then, and a man on third base! And one run needed to give the lead to Amesville! And the occupants of the stand on their feet, shouting and stamping and begging a hit! It was Sam who walked to the plate, Sam a little bit nervous and trying to make up his mind whether to follow Mr. York’s advice and take a short swing or follow the method he knew best. But he hadn’t had time to learn Mr. York’s way yet, and when, after sending a ball, Pitcher Smith sped one across the outer corner, knee-high, Sam’s effort went for naught. Another ball followed, one that passed the end of Sam’s nose and sent him “bucketting” away from the plate. And then there was another that looked good and again Sam, with shortened bat, tried his level best to connect with it and only popped a fly behind the Lynton bench. With the score two-and-two, Sam let his bat slide down until his hands were grasping the very end of it and then swung it well behind his shoulder and waited. After all, every man to his trade, he thought! Then Smith was stepping forward and the ball was coming and Sam--well, Sam was revolving on one heel and the ball was snugly nestled in the catcher’s mitt, and Sam was out!