Steve Brown was up then, and Steve had played in hard luck all day. Not once had he been able to get to first. This rankled in Steve’s breast, and as he faced the Mount Placid pitcher he resolved that this time, his last opportunity, he would not be foiled! On the first ball pitched Peterson legged it for second and Sam danced forward halfway along the base line toward home. But Hanford knew better than to risk a throw to second and contented himself with a motion that sent Sam scuttling back to third. Steve had offered at the delivery and so had one strike on him. To bring in a run he must hit safely and Steve waited his chance. But before it came something happened. On second Peterson, perhaps disgruntled at the trick worked on him, was set on showing his contempt for the enemy by risking a lead that simply cried for punishment. On each wind-up he went fully half the distance to third. Now Hanford was canny enough, but that was too great a temptation for him to resist. And so he gave a signal, Mr. Williams turned quickly, stepped out and shot the ball to shortstop. Peterson was twelve feet off base and there was but one thing to do and that was to keep away from the ball long enough for Sam to score. So he set out toward third and Sam looked on and watched his chance. It came when shortstop tossed the ball over Peterson’s head to third baseman. Then Sam set out desperately. And that, of course, was what Hanford wanted. Third baseman turned and pegged to the plate while Sam was still ten feet away. But, alas for Hanford’s hopes! The ball slammed into the dust and, although he tried desperately to get it, he failed, and while he was still groping for it with one hand and striving to block off Sam with his body that youth slid to safety in a cloud of red dust and Peterson romped to third! Mount Placid listened gloomily to the visitors’ wild outpouring of joy, saw them drag the runner to his feet and pull him ecstatically to the bench, saw Hanford, rather pale and wrathful, slap the dust from his clothes, recover his mask, and disspiritedly send the ball back to Mr. Williams; saw, too, Mr. Connell on third trying his best to look as if he didn’t know he had thrown the game away! “W! Rah! I! Rah! G! Rah, rah, rah! W! Rah! A! Rah! M! Rah, rah, rah! Wigwam! Wigwam!! Wigwa-a-arm!!!” And Dick Barry cavorting about like a thing built of springs, waving his arms and kicking his legs and shouting his voice away! And the score 4 to 4, and everyone on the third base side very, very happy and noisy! And then, after a minute, when one more run might have given the visitors the victory, when Steve had still another strike to be scored against him, Peterson, made careless by his previous good fortune, took just that extra inch forbidden by safety--and the coacher--and slid back to the bag too late!