“Don’t make comparisons—don’t,” said Osgood quickly. “They are odious. He’s going to stretch it into a double.” Sent onward by the coacher, Foxhall raced over the initial sack and stretched himself for second. It chanced, however, that Sleuth Piper was in position to back Hooker up, and, rushing forward, he took the ball on a favorable bound and threw it to second while still in his stride. It was one of the cleanest pieces of fielding, and perhaps the best throw, Piper had ever made in his baseball career, for it came straight into the hands of Nelson, who disregarded the dangerous spikes of the sliding runner and tagged Foxhall so cleanly and effectively that the locals had not the slightest excuse for a kick on the decision of “out.” “Well, wouldn’t that cramp you!” muttered Shultz disgustedly. “Why in thunder did the man try to make a double of it?” “Once more,” said Osgood, “I must caution you not to show your feelings so plainly. Even if we’re benched, we’re still members of the team and——” “I don’t know whether _I_ am or not,” rasped the resentful Shultz. “I don’t propose to play on any team where I’m handed a raw deal by a thing like Jack Nelson.” “Now look here,” said his companion, “you’ll stick on the team unless you’re fired off it, for as members of the nine we’ll have more pull with the bunch than otherwise. You’re too brash, Charley. You haven’t any policy or subtleness. Don’t think for a minute that I’m not just as sore as you, but as injured yet still loyal Oakdalers we can win more sympathy than by open rebellion.” “I s’pose you’re right,” admitted Shultz; “but I never could control myself the way you can.” That the Wyndham boys realized how desperate the situation was became manifest through an undisguised quarrel which now arose between Foxhall and two of his teammates who attempted to criticize him. “What’s the matter with you?” snapped the bitterly disappointed chap. “Pelty sent me down. Chew the rag with him if you’re going to jump on any one. How’d I know that fielder was in position to back up and get the ball to second so soon?” “Cut that out, all of you,” interposed Baxter. “Stop fussing and play ball. This game isn’t over yet.” “But it’s pretty well over,” cried Cooper gleefully. “It’s all over but the shouting.” Cohen, who seemed never troubled by a weak heart, predicted that he would get a hit and begged Wolcott to advance him with a duplicate. Then the nervy young Hebrew stood forth and demonstrated that he had a good eye by refusing to bite at the coaxers and compelling Grant to put the pill across. When this was done, he hit it hard and fair, the resounding crack bringing a shout from the Wyndham crowd. That shout was abruptly cut short when Cooper shot into the air and pulled Cohen’s drive down with one hand. From the opposite side of the field burst the sudden relieved shrieks of the Oakdalers, whose hearts had been choking them an instant before.