Tom was third at the bat. Now a good pitcher is usually a notoriously bad hitter. Tom proved an exception to the rule, though perhaps he had not developed into such a good pitcher yet that it applied in his case. He faced Langridge confidently and even smiled mockingly as a swift ball came in. Tom was a good judge of it and saw that it was going wild, so he did not attempt to strike it. His judgment was confirmed when the umpire sang out: "Ball one!" Langridge looked annoyed and sent in a swift one. Tom's bat met it squarely and it went well over the center fielder's head. "Go on! go on, me brave lad!" yelled Molloy, his brogue very pronounced. "That's the stuff!" "Take two bases! take two!" cried Phil. "Make it three! make it three!" begged Sid, and three Tom made it, for he was a swift runner, and the ball rolled provokingly away from the fielder who raced after it. "Well, you can bat, anyway, me lad," observed Molloy as Tom came in on a safe hit made by Sid a little later. "Does that mean I can't pitch?" asked Tom with a smile. "Not a bit of it. It only accentuates it, so to speak. You're all right--_facile princeps_ as the old Romans have it--which, being interpreted, means you can come in and sit at our training table." Tom's side only gathered in two runs, however, and from then on up to the eighth inning the team Langridge was on held the lead, the score at the beginning of the ninth inning being 10 to 8 in favor of Backus' men. That inning Tom and his chums rather went to pieces as regarded fielding, nor did Tom shine brilliantly in the box. He struck out two men and then he seemed to lose control of the ball. The bases were filled, two men knocking a one and two bagger respectively and another getting his walking papers. Then Tom got nervous, and just when he should have held himself well in hand to keep the score down, he gave another man a chance to amble easily to first on four balls and forced in a run. There were cries of derision from the opposing players and an ominous silence on the part of Captain Molloy and his men. The next man got a one-bagger and the player who followed him knocked a pop fly, which Molloy, who was on third, missed. The inning ended with three more runs in favor of Langridge and his mates, making the score 13 to 8. "Six runs to win and five to tie," murmured Molloy. "Can we do it, boys?" "Sure," said Phil Clinton confidently. Phil always fought to the last ditch. But it was not to be. Tom made one run and Sid another, but that was all. Langridge struck out his last man with the bases full and the game ended. "I thought you were a pitcher," sneered Langridge as the teams filed off the field, and there were several laughs at Tom's expense, for he had not made a good showing in the box. "Sure he can pitch," cried Molloy, coming to Tom's defense. "The ground was new to him, that's all." "Rats!" retorted Langridge, and Tom was too humiliated to make a reply.