And so the game went for two more innings, Toby Williams pitching very good ball, all things considered, and holding the enemy scoreless. On the other hand, the Petersburg pitcher was steady as a rock and Amesville failed to get a runner past second. In the eighth inning, however, Toby had a bad ten minutes and Petersburg drew ahead by one tally, a lead that was soon cut down in the first of the ninth when Sam Craig started things going with a safe bunt that put him on first, from which station he was advanced by Toby Williams’s sacrifice. Then Buster singled, Meyers drew a pass, and, with bases full, Captain Warner lined out a two-bagger into right and scored two runs. Before the inning was over two more had been added and Amesville breathed easier. Tom watched from the bench, listening to Steve Arbuckle’s muttered comments as he worked a busy pencil over the score-sheet, and hoping devoutly that Amesville would win. If she didn’t, the fellows would, he knew, blame the defeat on him. And they would be right in doing so. With a three-run lead when she took the field for the final half-inning, Amesville seemed sure of the victory. But a bad ten minutes followed. Petersburg sprang to the assault viciously and hammered Toby Williams until, when there was a runner on third and one on first and only one out to the visitors’ credit, Pete Farrar was hustled to the rescue. Pete met scarcely a better fate than Toby. Petersburg scored a run and filled the bases. Then a clout to Sidney in right field, which he caught after a desperate chase half-way to the infield, scored another runner and made the second out. There were still men on third and second and Petersburg’s captain was up. But Fate was kind to Amesville and a liner into Smithie’s glove ended the combat. Amesville had won, 10 to 9, and the series stood one game each. All depended on the third contest, a week away. Tom, glad of the outcome but discouraged and disheartened, rode tiredly back to Amesville with an aching arm and a splitting head. He had, he told himself bitterly, pitched his last game of baseball! CHAPTER XXII UNCLE ISRAEL SITS UP