From that time on the crowd selected Percy Randall for their special attention, and sought in every way to disconcert him. They had picked out the wrong man, however. Percy played away as unconcernedly as if he heard nothing, and if anything with more than his usual dash and brilliancy. He was the first man at the bat in the fourth inning, and the second ball pitched struck him on the arm. He was of course given his base. “Now is your chance, Percy,” said Ray. “Get away to second at once. There are no men out.” Percy was off like the wind, and reached second base in safety by one of his phenomenal slides, which of course brought the voices of Clinton Edwards’ chorus into vigorous play. I came next to the bat. We had thus far been unable to do anything with Arnold, who was pitching in magnificent form, and we were beginning to fear we never could handle him. I watched my chances carefully, and succeeded in driving a hard ball to the short stop. Percy Randall purposely made a start toward third, and the short stop, on picking up the ball, turned to keep him at second. In this way he lost several seconds――time enough to allow me to reach first base. Then Ray came to the bat. “If he will repeat his exploit of Saturday, we will have a great lead,” I thought. At the first ball Ray struck hard, driving it well up into the air and out between left and center field. It was an easy fly to catch, and I fully expected to see the fielder capture it, so I did not start off very fast. To my surprise, however, the fielder had not run ten steps when his foot slipped, and down he tumbled, the ball alighting on the ground some distance behind him. A loud exclamation of disappointment escaped the crowd, while Percy and I dashed around the bases; and before the fielder could pick himself up and get the ball, both of us scored, and Ray stood on third base. Our friends went wild with joy, while the Park men were glum and silent. Before the inning closed, Ray reached home on a sacrifice hit of Frank Holland’s to right field, and the score stood 3–0 in our favor. The Park men then bent every nerve to the task of tying the score. Foes though they were, I gave them the credit of playing a splendid up hill game. In the sixth inning they secured one run, and in the eighth inning another, making the score 3–2. During these innings Arnold’s work had been exceptionally fine, and we had been unable to make more than two or three safe hits. “I’m afraid Arnold is almost too much for us to-day,” said Ray to me. “Our hope lies chiefly in holding the lead. If we can do so for one more inning, the game is ours.”