Better news came, after a little while. The bulletin for the fourth inning showed four for the Catalpas and a big round "0" for their opponents. At this, there was a general and apparently concerted hurrah from the company in the street below. Editor Downey, as if thinking the cheer a personal compliment, put his frowsy head out of the window and bowed with as much grace as was possible under the circumstances. "Mr. Downey's hair looks as if he was laboring under great excitement," said the apothecary, blandly smiling at the editor's somewhat towseled appearance. "Every individual hair is standing on end, as if he were charged with electricity." Alice laughed joyously and seemed glad to find something under which she could cover her great elation at the good news from the North. Miss Ida uttered sarcastic remarks about the editor's exuberant comments in the morning paper regarding the coming contest in Galena. She declared that she did not think the game nearly as important as any one of the decisive battles of the war. And she was sure that _The Leaf_ would be perfectly ridiculous, next day, if the Catalpas were to win the championship. Her remarks were cut short by the display of another bulletin announcing the result of the fifth inning in these terms:-- _Hurrah for our nine! Fifth inning--Catalpas, 0; Galenas, 0._ "What in thunder does that mean?" asked Lew Morris, angrily. "Why does the numbskull tell us to hurrah for our nine when both sides have a zero?" A yell of derision went up from the crowd, and the editor, hearing groans and cat-calls in the street below, put out his head and, with much trepidation, cried, "It was a mistake. I forgot to put on the sixth inning. Catalpas, one; Galenas, nix!" A loud laugh greeted this sally, and the crowd good-humoredly proposed three cheers for _The Catalpa Leaf_, which were given in a random fashion, mingled with laughter. Mr. Downey, now well-smeared with ink, and perspiring with excitement, acknowledged the salute with gravity. "Six innings played and the Catalpas are six to the Galena's one!" exclaimed Alice, who was keeping the score with an assiduity that seemed to come from a belief that exactness in the figures would, somehow, affect the final result. Scraps of paper, on which observers had marked the score and had set down their prognostications of the innings yet to come, were circulated through the crowd. The Catalpas now had the lead, and it would be difficult for their adversaries to come up with them.