It was an audacious move and altogether unexpected by Arnold. A cry from the catcher, however, warned him, and in an instant he had picked up the ball and hurled it to the home plate. There seemed to be no chance for Percy, but when he was within twelve feet of the base he threw himself headlong and slid into the home plate amidst a cloud of dust. It seemed almost the same instant that the catcher caught the ball and touched Percy. It was a terrible moment of suspense for us. The crowd had been cheering vociferously, but suddenly ceased and hung breathlessly upon the umpire’s decision. For a second there was a dead silence. Then the umpire’s voice rang out: “Safe on home.” For a few minutes it seemed as if we could scarcely hear our own voices, such an uproar arose from the spectators. The grand stand fairly rocked with the swaying, shouting mass of people that filled it. Out around the grounds the other spectators were dancing and throwing their hats in the air. For a short period the movement of the game was interrupted, it being almost impossible to play in such confusion. Then the calm, steady voice of the umpire was heard again: “Play!” We made no more runs, and the last half of the ninth inning opened with the score 7–6 in our favor. The first batter struck a hard line hit about two feet above the ground and straight at me. I caught it neatly, but I took no particular credit to myself for so doing, for the truth of the matter was that I couldn’t get out of the way of the ball. Then came a long line hit which sent the batter to second base. The next man struck out, but he was followed by a batter who secured his first base and sent the runner to third base. This worried me, especially as I saw that Arnold was again at the bat. There were two men out, and two men on bases. If Arnold made another long hit――which he was quite able to do――the game and the championship would be lost to us. I stood fingering the ball and looking at Arnold. I had profited by my former experience, and did not try to deceive him again by an easy ball. “I must pitch him a swift ball, and take the chances; so here goes!” I said to myself, and hurled the ball in with all my might. Arnold’s bat whizzed through the air and struck the ball with a disheartening crack. I had given up hope, and turned about in the full expectation of finding the ball landed safely out in center field. Then came the great play of the season. Ray Wendell ran desperately backward, and, with a frantic bound, leaped in the air, and _caught the ball with one hand_. The Crimson Banner was ours! Such a day of triumph Belmont had never known before. Throughout the rest of the afternoon, and during the evening, at the promenade concert on the campus, we were the heroes of the hour, and the recipients of plaudits and congratulations from every side.