But Bob had been watching from the tail of his eye, even if he had seemed so unconcerned, and the instant the pitcher raised his arm to throw he dashed for the plate, now only fifteen feet away. For the last ten feet he was in the air and when he came down and slid across the plate in a cloud of dust he had beaten the ball by just a fraction of a second. He picked himself up, patted the dust from his jersey, and stepped back to where he could watch Nelson, while Chicora went wild with delight, laughed and shrieked and tossed its caps in air. There followed a delay during which Wickasaw strove to find some rule which would nullify that tally. But there is no law prohibiting a runner from becoming a walker if he so pleases, and finally, much disgruntled, Wickasaw went back to the game. [Illustration: He dashed for the plate.] As may be supposed, Van Roden had not neglected his opportunity, and now he was on third. But his chances of getting any farther seemed very slim as Nelson stepped up to the plate again with two strikes and no balls against him. A hit would make the score 7 to 6 in Chicora’s favor, but he doubted his ability to secure it. The Wickasaw pitcher had suddenly become very deliberate. He eyed Nelson thoughtfully for quite five seconds before he wound himself up, unwound himself, and sped the sphere forward. “Ball!” said the umpire. Catcher returned to pitcher. On third Van Roden, coached by Dan, was eager to score, and was taking longer chances than even Bob approved of. As the pitcher poised himself to deliver again Van Roden made a dash up the line. His plan was to rattle both pitcher and catcher and secure a passed ball to score on. But although the pitcher threw wide of the base the Wickasaw captain refused to muff the ball, and Van Roden, sliding head foremost for the plate, felt the ball thump against his shoulder while he was still two feet away. But the crowd was close up to the line, and the umpire, back of pitcher, had not seen it very well. He shook his head and dropped his hand. A howl of angry protest arose from the Wickasaw players who had been near enough to see the out. In a moment Mr. Downer, the center of a wrathful group of players, had called “Time,” and was listening patiently to the protests. Van Roden, grinning with delight, climbed to his feet and walked off. Bob, in front of whom the affair had taken place, walked out to the center of the diamond. As soon as he might he gained the umpire’s attention. “Could you see that very well, sir?” he asked. “Not very, I’ll acknowledge, because of the crowd about the base. But it looked to me as though the runner touched base before he was tagged. And that’s my decision, boys.” Again the protests arose. Bob raised his hand. “Just a moment, please,” he said. “I was there, Mr. Downer, and saw it----” “Well, so was I there!” cried the Wickasaw catcher and captain angrily. “I tell you I caught him two feet off base!” “That’s right!” cried the pitcher.