"Oh, we've got 'em on the run!" he cried, and then he went into the dressing-room. There was a queer look on Tom's face as his eyes sought those of Sid, and the latter shook his head. Coach Lighton, too, seemed anxious. He watched for the reappearance of Langridge, but his attention was occupied for a moment when Woodhouse knocked a neat fly. The captain was steaming away for first, but the ball was also on its way there and both arrived about the same time. "Out!" cried the umpire, and a dispute at once arose. The Randalls had to give in, though it was manifestly unfair. When Langridge came out of the dressing-room there was a noticeable change in his manner. His breath smelled of cloves, and Sid, who noticed it, made a despairing gesture. A little later Housenlager hit the breeze strongly and went out, the score at the ending of the fifth inning being 4 to 2 in favor of the Boxer team. "Now, Langridge," said the coach earnestly, "it depends on you. If you can hold them down, we are pretty sure of winning, even if we have to go ten innings, for some of our batters have Ogden's measure." "I'll do it!" cried Langridge. "You watch me!" But he failed miserably. He did manage to strike out two men, for there was snap and vicious vim in the way he delivered the balls, but suddenly, when the influence of the stimulant he had taken wore off, he went to pieces and the Boxers piled in five runs before they were stopped by a remarkable brace in the Randall fielding contingent. There was a steely look in the eyes of Coach Lighton as the Randalls came in for their turn to bat in the sixth inning. "I'll do better next time," promised Langridge, but he spoke rather languidly. "No, you'll not!" exclaimed the coach. "Why not?" and the pitcher seemed suddenly awakened. "Because you're not going to pitch next inning!" "I'm not?" "No, you're not." "I guess I'm manager of this team." "And I'm the coach. I say you shan't pitch any more in this game, or, if you do, I'll resign here and now. Captain Woodhouse, are you with me in this?" "Oh, well, can't you take a rest for a couple of innings, Fred, and pitch the last one?" asked the captain, adding: "if the Boxers will allow us to suspend the rules for you." "If I pitch at all, I'll pitch the whole game!" cried Langridge fiercely. "If you do I resign," was the decision of Mr. Lighton. "Well, it's up to you," said Woodhouse with a shrug of his shoulders, as if ridding himself of the burden. "Whatever you say goes." "All right, then I say Langridge goes to the bench. He's not fit to pitch and he knows it." "What's the matter with me?" demanded the youth haughtily. "Do you want me to tell?" asked Mr. Lighton quickly, with a sharp look. Langridge, without a word, walked into the dressing-rooms.