Once more Rod Grant came to bat, and once more, with his pet club in his hands, he out-guessed the southpaw twirler, banging a clean single into center. At Osgood’s elbow Nelson quickly said: “Sacrifice him to second. That will give him a possible chance to score if Shultz hits safe.” Osgood made no retort. He saw Grant looking toward the bench and placing himself in position to get away swiftly on the bunt. At the plate, he beheld the first ball pitched to him apparently coming over just where he wanted it, and instantly he felt that he could hit it out safely. Furthermore, he had not changed in his conviction that it was bad policy to sacrifice with one man down, even though the next two hitters were supposed to be the best stickers on the team, and one of them, Shultz, was his especial chum. Therefore he swung on the ball and met it. Instead of a drive, it proved to be a grounder that went clipping over the skin diamond straight into the hands of Pelty. Like a flash Pelty snapped it to Foxhall, who had leaped on to second, and, turning, Foxhall lined the sphere to first, again completing a fast double play. Nelson was on his pins, and he intercepted Osgood as the latter, without looking toward him, attempted to pass on the way to his position at third. “Go to the bench,” said Jack, his voice hoarse and husky. “You’re out of the game, Osgood.” “I beg your pardon,” said Osgood. “What did you say, sir?” “I said you’re out of the game. I won’t stand for such rank disobedience.” “Oh, very well,” said Osgood, coolly turning toward the bench. “You’re the autocrat—at present.” “What’s the matter?” demanded Shultz, running up. “What’s the trouble, Ned?” “Nothing,” was the reply, “only I’m benched because I didn’t make a safe hit.” “If he benches you I’ll quit myself,” threatened Shultz. “You won’t quit,” said Nelson instantly. “You’re fired. The bench for you, too. Get off the field.” “Well, wouldn’t that choke you!” gulped Shultz, astonished to have his bluff called so promptly. “How will he fill both our places?” Nelson showed them in a moment by placing Roy Hooker, one of the spare pitchers, at third, and sending Chub Tuttle to fill center field. Osgood and Shultz retired to the bench, where they sat talking, the latter showing by his manner that he was thoroughly enraged against his captain, while his friend, more politic and suave, accepted the situation with pretended indifference and disdain. Although the team had been weakened by the removal of these two players, for the substitutes surely could not fill their positions with an equal amount of skill, Grant betrayed no sign of weakening himself. Pelty and Leach were retired by the strike-out route, and even Crispin’s best performance was a weak grounder on which he perished in a hopeless dash to first. The tenth inning opened with Tuttle at bat. Chub had never been a hitter, but he did succeed in rolling a weak one to Leach, who threw him out.