With McLane and his stonecutters Henry Duncan had also appeared. Already he had told McLane all about what was taking place, and the husky lobsterman now marched onto the field, with his backers at his heels. Straight out to the home plate strode those men, and there McLane halted them. “Gents,” cried the lobsterman, holding up one hand, “me and my friends is here to see a square deal. We understand Fairhaven isn’t getting it. We understand there’s some intimidating business taking place. I guess the most of you has heard of me. I generally make good any promise, and right here I want to promise them chaps that is kicking up a disturbance that we’ll surely wade into them and give them all the fun they want unless they cool down directly. From this time on this ball game is going to be on the level. Mr. Umpire, you give the decisions jest as you think is correct, and I’ll guarantee you protection when the game is finished. There shan’t nobody put a finger onto yer.” In a surprising manner Benton Hammerswell had appeared from somewhere and was standing near the Maplewood bench as McLane made his announcement. The Maplewood manager felt a touch on his elbow, and turned to see Chester Arlington, in street clothes, at his side. Chester smiled scornfully into Hammerswell’s face. “Perhaps you’ve stolen the game already,” said Arlington. “If not, you won’t win it by your little plan. I knew last night that you intended to play crooked and keep me out of the box to-day, and I likewise heard you plan to bulldoze Fairhaven out of this game. I decided to spoil the trick for you, and therefore I telephoned Brick McLane and told him all about it. I advised him to bring over a fighting crowd with him, and he’s here with twenty of the toughest scrappers to be found on Fairhaven Island. You can thank me.” With an exclamation of rage, Hammerswell wheeled and struck at Chester’s face. Arlington dodged like a flash and retreated, still laughing mockingly. McLane’s announcement had been received with a few cries of derision from the ruffians. Nevertheless, every one of them knew the lobsterman was there to back up his talk, and they realized he had brought fighters with him. Having had his say, McLane marched his force to a position back of the Fairhaven bench and told the players to go on with the game. For a short time the hoodlums were quieted, but, being far superior to the island crowd in numbers, they soon began to hoot and jeer once more. When Jolliby reached first on a dropped third strike, and Singleton followed him on four balls, the thugs decided it was time to do something. With his hands on his hips, McLane was watching. He saw one of the ruffians back of third base hurl a stone at Singleton. The stone struck big Bob in the back of the neck and knocked him to his hands and knees.