“But everything depends on this game!” palpitated Elsie. “I just heard a man back of us say that Fairhaven would win the pennant if it could get this game. Why, it seems to me that both Frank and Bart might go into the game to save it. These men near us have been telling how the manager of the other team paid two great pitchers to come down here and pitch this game to-day. They say he had intended to put his professional pitchers in under false names, but people found out who they were, and he gave up trying to fool any one that way. If he could do such things, why couldn’t Dick have his friends help him?” “Because I had rather he would depend on himself and his own team,” said Merry. “If he loses this game, I understand that all the teams in the league will be tied, and he will have still another chance to fight for the pennant. If he wins without any of our assistance, he will deserve all the praise and glory he’ll receive.” “But oh! oh!” cried Elsie, “he can’t win now! Just look at that! It’s a home run, Frank!” Dillard had smashed the ball hard and fair, lifting it over the centre-field rail. Over that rail Chip Jolliby went flying in an endeavor to get under the ball. He was not successful, but he secured it and returned it to the diamond in time to stop Dillard at third base. Nevertheless, Connor, Halligan, and Lumley had all scored. For the first time during the game the cloud lifted from Benton Hammerswell’s face. He felt Tom Fernald slap him on the shoulder, and heard Fernald laughingly cry in his ear: “That settles it, Hammerswell! Slocum is the man to hold them down after that. Only six more Fairhaven batters to be retired and the game is yours. We will both win our bets.” “I believe we will,” nodded Hammerswell. Brad Buckhart called Dick and stepped down a little in front of the home plate to meet him. “Look here, pard,” said the Westerner, “what are you doing? You’ve been easing up. Are you trying to give these fellows this game? Just slam the ball over as speedy as you like. Don’t worry about me. I don’t give a rap if I lose that old thumb. I will hold them, never fear.” “All right,” said Dick. “You will get all the speed you want after this, Brad.” “That’s the stuff!” nodded Buckhart as he turned and retired to his position. Brad did get all the speed he could handle, but he handled the ball amazingly well, considering his injury. Farrell fell before Dick’s clever pitching, while Garvin was easily thrown out at first, after batting a grounder to Bradley. Although the Maplewood players implored Slocum to get a hit and bring Dillard home, Dick caused the pitcher to go after three sharp shoots, all of which were smothered in Buckhart’s big mit.