The runners on first and second were doing all in their power to worry the twirler--playing off and running back. "Take a few yards more, Wiles!" bawled the coach at first. "He won't throw it!" "Jack Frost" realized that it was the critical juncture of the game. The sight of "Crackers" Brown and Owen Lawrence not far from the "grand stand" nerved him to do his utmost. "Here's where I'll have to put everything I know on the ball," he reflected, warily watching the antics of the base-runners. He wheeled abruptly around and shot the ball with all his force toward the batsman. His heart gave a sudden thump as an ominous crack sounded. The "slugger" Appleby had hit a low drive which was whizzing with terrific velocity to the right of second base. "Safe--as sure as shooting!" groaned "Jack." Bob Somers, with only one glance at the oncoming sphere, dashed toward it like a flash. It seemed almost a hopeless chance. The base runners, confident that the ball would pass over his head, obeyed the instructions of the coach to run. Benny Wilkins started to make a note: "High school team goes to pieces in the sixth." The shouting of the Rockville adherents burst forth in a wild series of whoops. Then all the racket stopped with curious abruptness. As the liner sped high above Bob Somers' head the second baseman sprang in the air with upraised hand. There was a resounding smack. The ball, arrested in its flight, dropped to the ground a few feet away. Bob darted upon it, whipped the sphere to Tom Clifton, and Appleby was out. The calm was over. Forgetting unpleasant differences, the school voiced its approval in a sea of sound. Benny hastily scratched out his note. "One-eightieth of a cent's worth of good lead pencil gone to waste," he muttered. "Oh--oh! What do you know about that? Is Wiles wild?" Joe, making a tremendous effort to score, was speeding home when, to his unbounded astonishment, he discovered that the ball was in the first baseman's hands. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it flashing straight for the catcher's mit. Turning abruptly, he made a wild dive to regain the third sack. A volley of cries rang in his ears. "Get back!" "Hold your base!" "Slide--slide!" Obeying the instructions of his friends, Wiles threw himself at full length on the yellow, dusty line. But before he was within a foot of the goal the ball streaked over his head, Fred Benson's hand dropped on his forearm, and the only sound which Joe heard clearly was the voice of the umpire yelling: "Runner out at third!" "A mighty pretty piece of work," commented Mr. Rupert Barry. "A Jim dandy!" cried "Uncle" Steve, hilariously. "Regular major league work, I call it." "I knew they would turn out all right!" exclaimed Captain Bunderley, his eyes shining with satisfaction. "I never lost faith in 'em--never!" Victor Collins and Joe Rodgers, fairly dancing with glee, took turns with the bugle, sending its musical notes far over the air.