Walter signalled for a high ball over the plate and this time Tom sent it swift and true. The batsman stepped back, hesitated, and swung--and again missed! “Strike two!” droned the umpire, and, “Two and two, Pollock! Keep at him!” shouted Walter. A low ball followed and the batsman disdained it. Unfortunately so did the umpire. Walter looked his disgust. “Hard luck,” he called as he tossed the ball back. “It was a dandy, Pollock. Let’s have another just like it!” On the bases the waiting runners jumped and scurried and shouted, and back of first and third bases leathern-lunged coachers shot a cross-fire past Tom’s ears. “Some pitcher, what, Billy?” called the fellow behind third. “Used to pitch for the Gas House Team, he did! Watch that wind-up! Ain’t it a peach? He’s got everything there is--not!” “Here we go! Here we go!” chanted the fellow at first. “Watch for a homer, fellows! Don’t tire yourselves running; just walk in! Now! now! now! Hi! hi! hi! There it is!” Then the coachers’ voices were suddenly stilled, for the batter had swung at an out-curve and missed it by a good three inches, and Tom Pollock had made his first strike-out! That was worth living for, that moment! Tom wondered if the others, the fellows about him and the noisy crowd in the stand, could guess the feeling of absolute rapture that was his as the bat swept harmlessly over the ball. Something was singing inside him and there was a delicious tingle in his fingers and toes. He had pitched in a real game and struck out a batsman! He felt very, very proud and happy just then, and not a little astonished, too. He wished that Sidney might have been there to see it! Then a new batter faced him at the plate, the ball was in his glove again, and once more Walter was stooping and giving his signal. The next batsman, perhaps from having watched Tom’s delivery, was more canny. Two deliveries went as balls. Then he swung and missed a high one. After that he spoiled two perfectly good offers by fouling, and, with the score two and two, found one to his liking and cracked it far into centre field. In raced the runner from third, around the bases sped the others, and far and high arched the tiny ball against the blue afternoon sky. Tom turned and watched with his heart in his mouth. Out there Tommy Hughes was trotting confidently back. Then down settled the ball, up went Tommy’s hands, and the inning was over! CHAPTER XIII TOM TWIRLS TO VICTORY The shadows were lengthening when the first half of the tenth inning began and were not much longer when it was over. The Lynton pitcher came back strong, and Sanborn and Smith and one other went out in order without seeing first base. Then the teams once more changed places, and Walter and Thorny walked to the base-line with Tom, counselling, encouraging, instructing.