One run for the Woodhull. Again the Dickinsons to the bat, and again the rout; one single, a base on balls, two bases on balls--oh, if he only would get his chance! One ball, two balls, three balls. Suddenly McCarthy stopped and clutched his arm with an exclamation of pain. The team gathered about him. Snorky sniffed in disdain; he knew that trick, pretending it was all on account of his arm! What a quitter McCarthy was, after all! Still, what was to be done? The team gathered in grave discussion. No one else had ever pitched. "Give me a chance," he said suddenly to "Rock" Bemis, the captain. "You!" said Rock, with a laugh; "you, Snorky!" "Look at me! I can do it," he answered, and met the other's glare with steady look as heroes do. Something of the fire in that look convinced Bemis. "Why not?" he said. "The game's gone, anyhow. Go into the box, Snorky, and put them over if you can." The teams lined up. With clenched teeth and a cold streak down his spine he strode into the box. An insulting yelp went up from the enemy. Three balls, no strikes, and the bases full! Turkey at the plate stepped back scornfully to wait for the fourth ball. "Strike one!" Turkey advanced to the utmost limit of the batter's box, turned his back deliberately on Snorky, and called out: "You hit me, and I'll break your neck!" "Strike two!" Turkey turned in surprise, looked at him, and deliberated. "He can't put it over," yelled the gallery. "Yi, yi, yi!" Then Turkey seated himself Indian fashion, his back still to Snorky, and gazed up into the face of "Tug" Moffat, the catcher. A furious wrangle ensued, the Woodhull claiming that his position was illegal, the Dickinson insisting that nothing in the rules prohibited it. "Stonewall" Jackson, the umpire, a weak-minded fellow from the Rouse House, allowed the play. "Strike three!" Turkey, crestfallen and muttering, arose and dusted himself amid the jeers of the onlookers. Doc Macnooder smote high and low, and then forgot to smite--three strikes and out. The Egghead, despite the entreaties of the Dickinson to bring in his house-mates, could only foul out. The Woodhulls went wild with delight. He heard Tug, the catcher, whispering excitedly to De Soto. "Charley, just watch him! He's got everything--everything!" Then the Woodhull tied the score on two bases on balls, and his own two-bagger. When he walked lightly into the box for the third inning, Stonewall Jackson had been replaced by De Soto with the imperious remark: "Here, get out! I want to watch this." He gave the great Charley a modest nod. "When did you ever pitch?" said De Soto, critically. "Oh, now and then," he answered. "Well, Snorky, let yourself out." "Tug can't hold me," he said impudently. "That's the trouble, Charley." "Try him."