A deep sigh went around among the Catalpa contingent in the open seats, as Stirling, having received a hot ball from Rob Peabody, failed to pick it up with his accustomed skill, and had the mortification of seeing the agile base runner get to the first bag in safety. It was clearly evident now that the Catalpas were a little nervous. "We have them rattled," whispered the Calumets among themselves, as they sat expectantly on the players' bench. Even Charlie King, who never lost his equipoise, appeared to have left some of his skill behind him, for he did not twirl the ball with that bewildering dexterity that had been, all along, the envy and the terror of the Calumets. There was a woe-begone expression on the faces of the Catalpa players--save one, and that was Ben Burton, who wore a settled smile of derision. He seemed to be congratulating himself on the possible coming true of his prophecies. Any misplay on the part of the Catalpas was the signal for what Hart Stirling termed "one of Ben Burton's contemptible laughs." Shoff again faced the pitching of Charlie King and the two players exchanged a grin, a half-defiant recognition of their friendly antagonism. Thomas repeated his hit of the first inning, sending the ball to the left field fence for three bases and sending in Morse, Handy and Peabody, and putting his club in the coveted position of a good lead. Next, Glenn Otto hit a lively grounder to Boyne who caught it safely and retired the base runner; but Tom Shoff went triumphantly home. After this, "The Cats" seemed to regain something of their old vigor and spirit. A few words of warning, impressing on them the need of keeping cool, and reminding them that they now had everything to gain, and nothing to lose, were dropped by their captain, as they braced themselves for a good strong play. King neatly fooled Jamie Kennedy with his deceptive in-shoots and the batsman of the Calumets was called out on strikes. Charlie Webb was the last man at the bat in this inning, and he went out on a fly to Hart Stirling. "That ends the fifth inning!" shouted the scorer. "Score, eight to six in favor of the Calumet club," an announcement which was not very comforting to the gentlemen from Catalpa, whether they were in the Diamond Field or in the boxes. Al Heaton dashed his hat down over his eyes and went solemnly down to send a despatch which, a few minutes afterwards, was read in the streets of Catalpa with great consternation.