When the Randall team and its supporters arrived they found a big throng present to greet them. Even their opponents sent out a ringing cheer of welcome. The Fairview nine was out on the diamond practicing. "Snappy work," observed Tom critically as the batting and catching was under way. "Oh, we can do just as good," asserted Kindlings. "Don't get nervous now. You've got to pitch your head off." Some one started the Randall college song, "_Aut vincere aut mori_," and as the beautiful strains floated over the diamond when the players poured out from the dressing-rooms the team came to a sudden halt. "That's it, fellows," said Kindlings solemnly, "'Either we conquer or we die!' Play for all that's in you and then some more," and he laughed. Auto horns tooted blatantly, girls cried in their clear, shrill voices, the lady contingent of Fairview rendering some weird yells. Then there were the hoarse voices of the boys, to which answered the cheers of Randall. The grandstand and bleachers were waving geometrical figures of brilliant hues. It was an inspiring sight. No wonder that the players felt nerved to do their best, for on the result of the game depended much. Kindlings missed the call when the coin was spun, and he and his men had to start the hitting. But they did not mind this, and when, in the revised batting order, Kerr went up first, he "poked his stick into the horsehide for a two-bagger," as Holly Cross said. There was a yell that could have been heard a mile and every Randall lad was on his feet shouting: "Go on! go on! go on!" But Kerr stopped at second prudently, for he would have been nabbed at third. This opened the game and the play at once became hot. Randall scored two runs that inning and Tom, giving walking papers to a particularly heavy hitter, managed to come out of the initial ordeal without a hit being registered against him. The Randall boys went wild then and began the song, "When Fairview awoke from her sweet dream of peace," which was repeated again and again. But the next three innings saw only the negative sign chalked up in the frame on the scoreboard given over to Randall, while in the last half of the fourth Fairview secured a run, for one of the players "got the Indian sign" on Tom, to quote Holly Cross, who was an expert in diamond slang, and "bit his initials in the spheroid for a three-bagger." The run would not have been scored, for there were two men out, only Joe Jackson made what seemed to be an inexcusable fumble, and the runner came in. Still it looked safe for Randall until the fatal seventh inning.