Longton did hit it, but only a foul resulted, and Scurry, who had started for third, had to come back. “You know how to do it, Bill,” called the catcher to his brother, giving him a sign. Bill nodded, and the next instant, amid a breathless silence a swift ball shot from his hand, straight for the plate. With an intaking of breath Will Longton swung at it with such force that he turned completely around, and the look of astonishment on his face was mirth-provoking, as he realized that he had missed. “Pung!” went the ball as it settled into the pit of Cap Smith’s glove, and the voice of the umpire, as he called “Three strikes—batter out!” was lost in the howl of delight that welled up from grand stands and bleachers as the crowd realized that Freeport had held their opponents down in the last inning, and had won the game. What if it was only by one run? One run has often won a league championship. “Great work, Bill!” cried Pete as he ran in, clapping his brother on the back. “That’s the stuff!” agreed Cap, as he hugged the pitcher. “We did ’em! Come on now, we can catch the next boat across the river if we get a move on,” and the Smith boys, followed by the rest of the team, hastened to the dressing rooms, stopping only long enough to return the cheer which their opponents gave them. The crowd was surging down from the stands, talking about the close game, discussing the best plays, arguing how if such a man had done differently the result would have been changed, and speculating as to Freeport’s and Vandalia’s chances for winning the pennant. “What are you fellows going to do to-night?” asked Bateye Jones a little later as he stood talking with his chums, the Smith Boys on the little ferry boat which ran across the river from Vandalia to Freeport. “Nothing special, I guess. Why?” inquired Bill. “What do you say if we give the fire department a run?” “Give ’em a run?” asked Cap with a puzzled air. “What do you mean?” “Why they haven’t been out in nearly two weeks, and they’re just waiting for a chance to show off their new uniforms, and try the new chemical,” spoke Bateye. “I say let’s give it to ’em.” “How?” asked Pete, who detected a gleam of fun in the half-closed eyes of the lad who had such a habit of being out nights, and such a reputed ability to see in the dark, that it had gained him the name of Bateye. “How you going to do it?” “Easy. Come over here, and I’ll tell you. Come on, Doc, and you, too, Norton.” The two lads thus addressed, together with the Smith boys, moved forward on the little boat. “I saw Spider Langdon and Beantoe Pudder looking at us,” explained Bateye, when they were safe in a corner of the craft, “and I didn’t want them to get on to us. Now here’s my scheme. We can have some fun, and, at the same time give the department a chance to show off,” and with that Bateye began to whisper the details of his plan. It did not take long to disclose it, and at the conclusion he asked: