The home team returned determinedly to the fray, but Mason was impregnable. In the last of the eighth not a man saw first and only four players faced him. In the first of the ninth, Rutter’s Point again started things with a whoop when Caspar Billings, first up, singled into left field, took second on Townsend’s sacrifice, and was advanced to third when Jensen hit past Will Scott. Then Jensen was caught off first and House flied out to Shores. I would like to tell how Clearfield went to bat in the last half of that final inning and pounded Mason for enough hits to win the game. But as this isn’t one of Fudge’s romances I can’t do anything of the sort. As a matter of regrettable fact, Clearfield stood up to the plate and watched Mason’s “floaters” waft past them and listened to the fateful voice of the umpire calling strikes. Mason ended the day in a blaze of glory, striking out three men in order and sending his team off the field victors by the score of 5 to 3. Harold Townsend, slapping his score-book shut, grinned at Dick as the last man went out. “What did I tell you?” he asked gleefully. “Say, you fellows can’t play ball for shucks, Lovering!” Dick smiled imperturbably. He had the ability to smile in the face of disaster, had Dick. “We’ll try you again some day,” he answered. “Good-bye, Harold. See you Monday.” “I may not be home,” replied Harold airily. But when Dick was accompanying his team-mates toward the dressing-room a minute or two later, he felt a hand on his arm and looked around to find that Harold had followed him. “Say, Lovering, I—I’m sorry your team got beaten. And thanks for showing me about scoring, you know.” CHAPTER XVII HAROLD MAKES A PROMISE The Clearfield _Reporter_ was quite enthusiastic over the game in its Monday’s issue. There had been, it declared, for some time a demand for a baseball team to represent the city, a demand which had now been satisfied in the recent formation of the club which had given such a good account of itself on Saturday. It was to be hoped that the organization would prosper and receive the support of the many lovers of clean sport residing in the town. The _Reporter_ gave the game almost play by play, indulging in a wealth of baseball slang and metaphor worthy of a metropolitan journal. It was quite evident that the writer had thoroughly enjoyed his task. He dealt out praise lavishly and was especially complimentary to the Rutter’s Point pitcher, who, it seemed, had struck out ten batsmen besides fielding his position perfectly. Incidentally the _Reporter_ provided the information that the Clearfield players had failed to obtain.