“’Ere’s where we win the game, don’t y’ ’now!” shrieked Billy Bradley. “He will do the trick!” When Dick struck wide of the first ball with an awkward swing of the bat some were surprised. Others, however, saw the object, for Buckhart took second on that pitch, and Merriwell’s flourish had been for the purpose of bothering the catcher. He had not tried to touch the ball. “A hit now will win this game!” panted Earl Gardner. “He will get it,” said Barron Black confidently. Armstrong was on his mettle, and did his best to deceive Merriwell. He led the batter to swing at a deceptive in-drop, and two strikes were called. “Sit down! sit down!” yelled a Rivermouth fellow. “The inning is over! He will never disturb Armstrong!” Barely had the words been uttered when Dick met one of Armstrong’s curves and sent the ball skimming along the ground at great speed. The shortstop sprang to get in front of it, while Jolliby made a daring dash for the plate. The ball took an erratic bound just before reaching the shortstop and went over his shoulder. Then there was a shriek from the cadets. “’Ome! ’ome!” yelled Billy Bradley, who was on the coaching line near third. Buckhart dashed over the bag and swung toward the home plate. The left-fielder had come in for the ball, and he made a beautiful throw to the plate. Buckhart was tagged barely a second before he reached home, and was out. However, Fardale had scored a run, as Jolliby had reached the plate safely. The game continued to be of the sort to keep every one keyed to a high pitch. Repeatedly Rivermouth seemed to be on the verge of scoring, but in each instance the home team managed to crawl out of the hole and save itself. With seven complete innings played and no other run secured, it began to seem as if one score would settle that game. In the first half of the eighth, however, a peculiar thing happened. The first two batters were easy outs. By this time, although they continued to cheer their team valiantly, the hearts of the Rivermouth cheerers were growing faint. The next hitter managed to drive out a clean one that looked to be good for two bases. It passed over Tubbs’ head just out of reach and went bounding away toward the fence. Jolliby raced for it. The ball reached the fence and disappeared. The Rivermouth runner was astonished on reaching second to find a coacher back of third wildly shrieking and motioning for him to come on. Wondering what had happened, he made for third, feeling certain he must stop there. In the meantime, Jolliby and Flint had reached the fence where the ball had disappeared, and were seen kneeling on the ground.