"There's the enemy of the 'Pie-eaters' going to bat now," remarked Nat Wingate to his chum, John Hackett. "Only wish I had the stick in my hands," said Hackett. "I'd break it in half and knock the cover off the ball at the same time. Say, Nat, maybe the Stars wouldn't wade through this Rockville bunch!" "I won't be satisfied until we get a crack at 'em," grinned Nat. "Bet they don't score a run." "Look out for your heads, fellows," counseled Ted Pollock. "Tom Clifton's going to swing, and----" "Suffering geese, he's cracked it!" roared "Uncle" Steve from the "grand stand." "A pippin, too; right over the second baseman's head. Hooray! He runs like an express train." Hot and happy, Tom Clifton reached first in safety, while cries of "Good work, old boy; good work!" made his grin grow broader. "Here's where we start things, 'Pinky'!" he cried, exultingly. "Don't fool yourself. You won't travel very far," grinned the captain of the Rockvilles. "Play off the base, Tom," urged "Jack Frost," who was coaching at first. "Jeffords'll never be fast enough to get you." At the precise second that Jeffords pitched the ball Tom's long legs began to move at such an extraordinary rate as to cause murmurs of wonderment to come from the onlookers. "By cracky, he can go faster'n the ball!" shouted "Uncle" Steve. Professor Ivins scowled. He looked at the Goose Hill storekeeper with an air of profound disdain. The spectacle of a man of Mr. Kimbole's age acting in such an undignified fashion rather shocked his sensitive nature. "If I were in your place I should hardly----" "Bully boy!" roared Mr. Kimbole, suddenly. "Bully boy! He beat out the ball by a good two yards!" The field was in an uproar again. But the noise was as nothing compared to the tumult which broke out when Tom, on the twirler's second throw, once more dared to match his speed against that of their opponents. Bending far over, he tore down the third base line with all his might, and, with the frantic shouts of the crowd ringing in his ears, slid for the sack, sending up puffs of whirling yellow dust. "By gum, I'd like to have you on our side," said Joe Wiles, generously. He lined the ball to Jeffords, while Tom scrambled to his feet, dusted his uniform and surveyed the situation keenly. "This means a run, old boy," he exclaimed, confidently. "Extra--extra!" came from somewhere in the assemblage. "All about the terrible robbery--ball player steals two bases. Who wants a copy of the high school 'Reflector'? Only five cents. Read Dave Brandon's thrilling piece of fiction. Greatest story since the days of Munchausen!" Benny Wilkins, with an armful of papers, was screeching at the top of his voice. "Why, he's actually selling them!" cried Tom, almost stunned with amazement. "Sure! I've seen him sling out a dozen already," grinned Wiles. Pitcher and catcher, who had been in conference for a moment, once more took their places.