“Watch out,” advised Olcott, with a wide grin. “Here it comes again.” Villum spat on his hands, pounded the plate, and settled down. Even the nonchalant Green was laughing, but his laugh ended suddenly. For, as the ball came glinting down, Villum gathered together, swung mightily, and connected! “He’s done it!” shrieked the fans, coming to their feet with a howl. The ball went sizzling along the ground to Craven, while Villum Kess labored toward first. The third baseman was so astonished at his hit that when he scooped up the ball he fumbled it. Then he picked it up again and whipped it to first. “Look oudt!” yelled Villum. “I vos coming!” He came, too, in an unheralded slide. Smith, the semipro, had probably never seen any one slide for first before in all his life. He was so startled at the action that he missed the ball, which went past him. Instantly Villum gained his feet and plunged toward second, repeating his bull-head effort of the fourth inning. While Smith chased the ball the crowd began to yell encouragement at him, remembering that he had scored the first tally. On reaching second, Villum took a look over his shoulder and started for third. Smith had gained the ball, and was sending it across the diamond to Craven, but none the less he pounded on, head down and elbows working. He was only halfway from second when Craven picked up the ball and started for him with a grin. Villum never slacked up, despite the frantic yells that were directed at him. Just as Craven reached out to tag him, however, he stumbled over his own foot and fell like a shot, headfirst. He struck squarely against Craven’s knees. The latter’s hand was distinctly seen to fly out, while the ball dropped and rolled away. Out of the whirling arms and legs emerged Villum, bounced to third, and turned toward home. “I toldt you I vos a home run got!” he bellowed. This time, however, this amazing luck seemed to have deserted him. Craven rolled over and got the ball, and quickly snapped it home. Olcott stepped out to get it, flinging aside his mask, and a groan swelled out from the crowd. “He’s done for!” “Nefer!” roared Villum, bouncing along desperately. Once more he shot to earth, just as the ball came whizzing along over him. Olcott took the ball and fetched it down, but Villum had already come to a stop, hands outstretched before him. “Shudgement!” he squawked at the umpire. “You pet me dot I vos safe!” He had the tips of his fingers on the plate--and had effected a home run without making a hit! “Yaw!” he shrieked, in delight. “Vot vos I toldt you! You pet me der score she vos died, yes, no?” “Right you are, Villum,” laughed Chip, escorting the Dutch lad to the bench in mingled wonder and joy. “Take off your hat!”