“That fellow’s out!” Walter heard the harness-maker shout gleefully. “You’re right, Si!” responded another Rodman supporter. “Better give that fellow a pine log for a bat!” “Barn door’d be better!” roared Silas. “They can’t touch Dan!” Walter turned to look at Dan, who now was facing the second member of the opposing nine. The pitcher’s manner still was as quiet as if he was unaware of the noisy approval of his supporters. “Keep it up, Dan,” said Walter in a low voice. Swinging his long arms, Dan for an instant turned his back to the batter, and then in a moment resuming his position he sent the ball in with all his strength. So sudden was his movement that the Benson player was unable to dodge the ball and was struck with its full force upon his left shoulder. Howling with pain he clapped one hand upon the wounded spot and began to dance excitedly about the home plate. “Ou-u-ch!” he cried. “Jiminy! that hurt!” “Take your base!” ordered Moulton. “Can’t ye give a feller a chance t’ git his breath?” demanded the unfortunate batsman indignantly. “Take your base,” said Moulton again in a low voice. Grumbling and still twisting and rubbing the wounded shoulder the runner slowly made his way to the first base. “You’ve got them scared, Dan,” called Walter encouragingly. “Keep it up!” Dan did not glance at his friend as he once more faced the batter. Suddenly whirling about he threw the ball with terrific speed to the first-baseman, who touched the startled Benson player before the latter was fully aware of his peril. “He’s out!” called Moulton sharply. “He had his foot in the way! He kept me off the base!” angrily shouted the runner. The umpire did not even glance at the player as the angry protest was heard. “Batter up!” he said quietly. “But I’m tellin’ ye I ain’t out,” again called the disgruntled Benson player. “He had his foot――――” “You’re out!” interrupted Moulton quietly. Then, ignoring the player, who at last with many mutterings and shakings of his head slowly rejoined his comrades, he was again watching the pitcher. “Strike one!” he called as Dan sent a slow ball over the plate. “Ball one!” he added a moment later. “Strike two!” was his next announcement. “Foul ball!” came the verdict, as the batter sent the ball far back over the catcher’s head. “You’re out!” Moulton quietly said as the next ball came in swiftly. “’Twasn’t over the plate!” protested the Benson player loudly, as he flung his bat in anger upon the ground. The Rodman nine, however, were now running in from the field, and as the umpire did not pay the slightest attention to the protests of the recent batsman he soon joined his fellows on the field. “Great work, Dan!” exclaimed Walter, as, after selecting his bat, he stopped a moment beside his friend and patted him on the shoulder. “You struck out two men and caught another off first.” “I’m sorry I hit him,” said Dan gently.