It was seen immediately that, for all that Merriwell had sent Gamp back, the ball was going far beyond the position held by the left fielder. Gamp turned and ran for it, but the effort seemed a waste of energy. The spectators laughed to see the long legs of the country boy working furiously as he raced out after the ball. “If he gets those feet going much faster, he won’t be able to stop for a week,” shouted somebody. “What’s he think he’s going to do?” laughingly questioned another. “He’s playing chase with himself!” shouted Sydney Gooch. Jeffers reached first, and tore down toward second. Surely it was a home run. What a blow for Merriwell. The ball was dropping now. Gamp was near it, but he could not touch it. He was looking up, trying to locate it. He looked over his shoulder and saw the ball. Then he made a last spurt that astonished everybody. Still the ball was passing far over his head. Safe? Not quite! Gamp was tall, and he was running swiftly. With a mighty leap, he went into the air after the ball, still going in the same direction. He reached far up with both hands and---- More than a hundred spectators caught their breath. Some rubbed their eyes in amazement. Some muttered exclamations of astonishment. The ball had struck in Joe Gamp’s hands! “He’s got it!” “He’s caught it!” “Hooray! hooray!” A few cheered, but the most of those who witnessed the phenomenal catch were dumb with amazement. For Gamp held the ball, having robbed Jeffers of one of the prettiest hits ever seen on that ground. Frank Merriwell laughed. “Well, that’s pretty good for a lumber-heels,” he said, with satisfaction; “but I expected something of the kind from him.” Cal Jeffers was disgusted when the coacher at third stopped him. He could not believe he was out. “What’s the matter with you?” he angrily cried. “It’s a home run!” “Ought to have been,” said the coach; “but that long-legged farmer caught it. See, he’s just throwing it in.” “He must have picked it up,” said Jeffers. “He did,” nodded the coach; “picked it up in the air. Finest catch I ever saw.” “What--he made the finest catch you ever saw? Come off! This is a jolly!” But Jeffers found it was no jolly, for the umpire declared he was out, and he walked in to the bench, railing at the luck. Bink Stubbs was gasping for breath. It was some time before he could say a word, and then he faintly cried: “Take me home to mommer! It always makes me sick to witness a frightful accident like that.” “Of course it was an accident,” said Capt. Hardy, who was not playing, although on hand in a suit. “Of course nothing of the sort,” laughed Frank Merriwell. “Might just as well say it was an accident that Jeffers hit the ball, and I do not claim that.” “We know that wasn’t an accident,” cried Sydney Gooch, getting behind a knot of students as he shouted the words.