“Dan, you’ll have to go back to the pitcher’s box!” exclaimed Snell as the cheering of the opposing section was renewed when the runner on third came in with the third run of the inning, after the batter had sent a long fly to left field which Smith captured. “I wish I could,” said Dan quietly. “You must. That makes the score four to two. We can’t stand that. They’re hammering Gus! They’ll drive him out of the box.” “That doesn’t look as if they would,” suggested Dan as the next player struck out. “Three in one inning,” muttered Snell hopelessly. “The game is young.” “If it is that bad when it’s young, what will it be when it is older?” “Better for us, I hope.” The school players came toward the bench, every one looking anxiously at Dan and eagerly inquiring concerning his hurt. The glances of anger at Gus when it became manifest that Dan was out of the present game were frequent and unmistakable. The substitute pitcher, however, apparently was giving slight heed to the looks of his comrades. His face was streaming with perspiration, while his jaws were working as if every second of time had its special value. Between Gus and the other members of the nine sat Walter, his face still betraying the sickness he had suffered and his bearing showing that he was far from feeling at ease at the moment. He glanced repeatedly at Dan, who was the center of a group, but he did not speak. “Brace up, fellows!” said Ned anxiously as he faced his fellow players. “Now is the time to show the stuff you’re made of! We mustn’t let a little thing like a lead of three runs scare us. Do your best!” The encouraging words of the young captain did not avail, however. The lanky Ingersoll seemed to have acquired an additional power in his wirelike arms and his body went through contortions that made his earlier efforts appear like child’s play. Walter struck out. Sam Ventnor sent a little fly to the first-baseman. Gus Kiggins indeed made a hit, but it counted for nothing, as the batter that followed him was easily thrown out at first. The Military Academy nine, however, did no better when their turn to bat came and neither of the following innings was productive of a run for either side. “We’ve just got to do something now,” said Ned desperately as he turned to his companions a moment before he advanced to the plate to begin the Tait School’s half of the eighth inning. “Set us a good example, Neddie boy,” said Hodge encouragingly. Ned’s face was grim with determination as he faced the opposing pitcher. He was deliberate and cool and waited until two strikes and two balls had been called before he attempted to strike. Then hitting savagely, he sent the ball on a low line far into center field.