“Go around again, Ray!” shouted Tony, entirely forgetting the dignity of his position as our scorer, in the delight of the moment. We made no more runs that inning, the Halford men settling down bravely to steady playing as they found the bases clear again. The game was practically settled, however, for the score was now 6–3 in our favor. Confidently we took the field for the ninth inning, and played a strong, sure game which resulted in our closing the Halford men out without a run. With evident signs of disappointment the large crowd dispersed, and we found ourselves a jolly set of victors. We gathered together and gave three cheers for the Halford men, which were responded to by a similar compliment from their nine, and then hurried to our carriages. Laughing, shouting, and joking, we scrambled in. “There!” cried Percy, as he tumbled in a heap over me. “Who says we can’t play ball?” The driver wheeled his team about and we were off for our hotel. “And now, boys,” said Ray, his face glowing with excitement and pleasure――“Now for Park College, and the Crimson Banner!” CHAPTER XXVI GENEROUS HOSTS An hour later and a jubilant, noisy crowd of students were seated about one of the large tables in the dining room of the Halford House, all bent upon doing justice to the best dinner that the modest hostelry could supply. The party lacked only one thing to complete its happiness――the presence of Tony Larcom. “Where is Tony?” I asked. “Gone to the telegraph office,” answered Ray. “He has about a dozen messages to send to Belmont. He will be back shortly.” Ray had hardly ceased speaking when Tony entered. A round of cheers greeted him. “Any news from Belmont?” we cried. “Well, scarcely,” he answered, with a laugh as he seated himself. “I’ve just sent my telegrams. But I have news from the game over at Dean to-day.” “I suppose, of course the Park men beat Dean all to pieces,” said Ray. “What was the score?” “Twelve to four in favor of Park,” answered Tony. “That is somewhat different from our score with the Dean men.” “Yes,” I answered, “but it is not so different from what our score _ought_ to have been, and _would_ have been had we played them to-day. We were badly handicapped.” “And so were the Park men, it seems――at least for part of the game,” said Tony. “Why, what do you mean?” asked Ray, looking quickly at Tony. “My telegram said that Arnold was unwell, and did not pitch after the fourth inning.”