Immediately Madison’s voice was heard ordering his players to stop throwing the ball around in such a manner. Tipton’s high throw had frightened him, for Dick would have scored easily had Gibbs failed to catch it. The cadets now had an opportunity to cheer their team on, and they began singing “Fardale’s Way.” Chester Arlington joined earnestly in this song: “It’s no use groaning, it’s no use moaning, It’s no use feeling sore; Keep on staying, keep on playing, As you’ve done before; Fight, you sinner, you’re a winner, If you stick and stay; Never give in while you’re living— That is Fardale’s way!” Wiley sat on the bench, and smiled serenely as his ears drank in this song. “Surely this is salubrious,” he murmured. “This is the real stuff. Reminds me of my college days when I used to warble the songs of my dear old alma mater.” Black also glanced toward Dick, who again gave a signal to bunt. Black bunted the first ball pitched, dropping it down about eight feet in front of the plate and off to one side toward third. Dick was on his way for the home plate even before the bat touched the ball. He had taken chances on Black’s success in bunting safely and started as soon as Westcott swung his arm. Westcott caught up the ball and snapped it to Dickson, but was too late. Dick had scored. At the same time Darrell had moved up to third, and Black reached first in safety. “I am willing to admit the kids know how to play the game,” chuckled Wiley. "This would not please Frank Wilbur. He believes in beefing it out. He has a delectable little habit of sitting on the bleachers and youping persistently: ‘Beef it! beef it! beef it!’ That may have been the style of playing in his day, but modern baseball is somewhat different." Dave Flint was not a first-class bunter. For this reason Dick gave Dave a signal to hit the ball. Flint did hit it. He met it full and fair, and sent it onto a dead line into the hands of Jarley, who was almost lifted off his feet. Nevertheless the Franklin shortstop clung to the ball and snapped it over to third so quickly that Darrell was caught off the bag and put out. This brought a yell of joy from the Franklin crowd. “Hard luck, Dave,” said Dick, as Flint returned to the bench. “Bad judgment!” declared Flint. “I tried to drive it ten feet to the right of him, and I put it straight into his hands.” “Well, you did your best,” said Dick, “and that’s all any one can do. Angels can do no better, you know.” “It’s a shame!” declared the boy with the scarred cheek, as he sat down on the bench. “We had a chance to win this game right there!” “The chance will come again,” asserted young Merriwell confidently. “It is not over yet. Black is on second and Gardner has a crack. A single to right field may score Black.”