“Why don’t they bat the ball?” he demanded. “Every time one of them gets on a base, the others leave him there. What they ought to do is to take a good bang at it and send it out there beyond those fellows.” “That’s what they’re trying to do, papa,” replied Louise, “but the Point pitcher won’t let them. He’s a wonderful pitcher, isn’t he, Morris?” “Pretty fair. He’ll get his before the game’s over, though. See if he doesn’t.” “Get his what?” asked his father curiously. “Get what’s coming to him,” laughed Morris. “I mean the Clearfield chaps will bat him. He can’t keep this pace up much longer. I wouldn’t be surprised if we got after him this inning.” “Oh, I wish we might!” sighed Louise. “I wish they’d just—just _slam_ him!” “My dear!” murmured Mrs. Brent. “That doesn’t sound very nice.” “It’s all right, mama; it’s just baseball talk.” “Even so, dear, I’m not certain,” replied her mother, “that——” But Louise didn’t hear the rest, for she was waving her purple pennant wildly and shrieking in a manner that Mrs. Brent must have disapproved of thoroughly. But she had a good excuse. Even Mr. Jonathan Brent was tapping his cane and breathing hard, while Morris was frankly on his feet, yelling at the top of his lungs. Jack, the first Clearfield batsman, had landed on the second ball pitched, and now it was rolling along the grass between right fielder and center, and Jack was traveling fast for second base. He drew up there, breathless but happy. From the stands and from the crowds along the edges of the diamond came shouts and cheers. At last, Clearfield was to tie the score! And yet even with a runner on second and only a hit necessary to bring in a tally, it began to look as if once more the hopes of Clearfield’s supporters were doomed. Lanny, determined and cool, after waiting until he had three balls to his credit and no strikes, tried to drop out of the way of a close one, only to have it hit his bat and roll fair! Mason fielded it to first, and there was one out. The incessant shouting from the spectators died away and Gordon, coaching at first, swung on his heel and kicked viciously at a pebble to relieve his feelings. Then, with Pete Robey up, there came an exchange of signals, and Jack started for third as the ball left Mason’s hand for the second time. It was an unexpected play, and it succeeded. Pete swung and missed and Houghton side-stepped and hurled to third. But Jack, who was a fast youth on his feet, was diving head-first for the bag when the ball arrived, and Mr. Vokes, trotting past, spread his hands. Clearfield applauded wildly.