Kerr signaled for another incurve, but Tom shook his head. He was going to deliver a style of ball he had used but once before that day because it twisted his arm fiercely. It was a sort of "fade-away" ball, made famous by a great professional player. Tom drew his arm back, having gripped the ball strongly. The action made him wince with pain, but there was no time now to stop for that. Out straightened his muscles and the horsehide left his hand swiftly. He knew it was a good ball, but in spite of that he almost feared lest he should hear the fatal "ping" as the bat hit it or listen to the umpire's "ball one." Tom felt that he could not toss another curve. His arm was numb and tingled away up to his shoulder. He saw a black wall looming up before his eyes and there was a ringing in his ears. But above the tumult he heard a voice shouting: "Three strikes! Batter's out!" Oh, what yelling there was! How the handkerchiefs and banners fluttered! How the girls' shrill voices mingled with the deep cheering of the boys! What a stamping of feet on the grandstand! Then out from the tumult came booming that heart-stirring song of Randall: "We have come and we have conquered!" Tom staggered as he pulled off his glove and walked toward the bench. His mouth was parched and dry. "Oh, good old man!" yelled Kindlings, rushing up and embracing him. "Oh, fine! Oh, great! Oh, oh, oh! Wow!" "Up with him, fellows!" called Sid Henderson. "On our shoulders!" "No, no!" protested Tom. But he might as well have talked to the wind. They lifted him up and marched with him around the field, singing again: "We have come and we have conquered!" "Now, fellows, a good round of cheers for Fairview," proposed Kindlings, and the team, gathering in a circle about Tom, who had managed to descend to the ground, raised their voices in a tribute to those over whom they had been victorious. From where they were gathered, downcast but not disheartened at their defeat, the Fairview team sent back an answering cheer. Then came more songs from the contingent of Randall students, and many an "old grad" walked with a prouder step that day, for once more, after many seasons, the bird of victory had come back to hover over the college on the river and the championship banner would float from the flagstaff on the campus. Tom and his chums dispersed to dress. A crowd surrounded the victorious pitcher. "Let me congratulate you, Parsons," said Dr. Churchill, making his way through the throng. "You have brought honor to the college," and he shook Tom's hand heartily. "The rest of them did as much as I," replied Tom modestly. "If it hadn't been for Clinton's run, I'm afraid we'd have lost after all." "You get out!" cried Phil.