Never had there been such a crowd out to witness a game on the Boxer diamond. The grandstand was packed long before the teams trotted out for practice and the bleachers were overflowing. A fringe of spectators packed the side lines, and what with the yelling and cheering of the rival factions, the waving of the colors, the tooting of the auto horns in the throng of machines that had brought parties to the contest, there was an air of excitement that might have excused even more veteran players from getting nervous, for the game meant much to both colleges. If Boxer won, it would have a chance to play Fairview for the championship, but if Randall won the privilege would fall to that college. And that both teams had determined to win goes without saying. Almost at the last minute Coach Lighton had told Tom to get ready to go as a substitute, and it was in his field uniform then instead of his ordinary clothes that Tom went to the game. But he had slender hopes of pitching, for Langridge seemed in unusually fine form and that morning at Randall had done some good work. But the orders of the coach could not be disobeyed. So Tom took his place on the bench with the other Randall lads, and, after some practice on the field, his eyes roved over the grandstand in search of a certain face. He fancied he saw where Miss Tyler sat, but he could not be sure. "Langridge will probably go home with her," thought Tom. "He didn't bring her here, for he came in with us." He had little more time for thought, however, as the umpire was getting the new ball from the foil cover and was about to call the game. Boxer had won the toss and elected to bat last, so it was the turn of the visitors to get up first and show what they could do. Langridge was greeted with a cheer from a crowd in the Randall section of the grandstand as he went to the bat. He was popular with the large mass of students in spite of his ways. He seemed in good form and there was a confident air about him as he swung his willow stock to and fro. "Play ball!" called the umpire. Dave Ogden, with a calculating glance at the batsman, tied himself into rather a complicated knot and threw the horsehide. It was right over the plate and Langridge struck viciously at it, but made a clean miss. There was a groan from the Randall supporters and the team looked glum. Langridge, however, was not disconcerted. He was as confident as ever. Once more the ball was hurled toward him. He stepped right up to it, for he knew a pitcher's tricks and there was a resonant crack that made the hearts of his chums leap. He had lined out a "beaut." "Go on! go on! go on!" yelled Coach Lighton. "Leg it, Langridge, leg it!" Langridge was running low and well. The Boxer right fielder had muffed the ball, but made a quick recovery and threw to first. It seemed that Langridge was safe, but the umpire, who had run down toward the bag, called him out. A groan went up from the Randall sympathizers and the team joined in.