Sudbury followed, and after balls and strikes, tipped a kindergarten bounder to McGuffy, who, with the air of Little Jack Horner, stopped it and threw it within Ames's long reach. Durand profited by a fumble of Smart's to reach first, but he was caught here a minute later by Owen's quick snap to Ames--and the fourth inning was over. In the fifth, by an error, a base on balls, and a hit, another run was added to the Second's score. The First too gained a run on a hit by Hayes and errors. But the end came when Borland drove the ball right into Ames's hands; and Weaver, after slashing twice in vain, dropped a fair ball in front of the plate, and found Ames holding it when he reached first. The game was over. The spectators drifted moodily down toward the school buildings, exchanging sarcastic and pessimistic comments on the work of the school nine and its prospects: "A lot of duffers;" "Couldn't hit a balloon;" "The only players on the field were the Second;" "The Clippers wouldn't have done a thing to 'em;" "Worst exhibition of baseball ever seen." Some, especially Patterson's surprised classmates, looked at the matter from a different point of view and vowed that all the trouble was due to Patterson, who was too good a pitcher for the school batters. Poole had a short talk with Lyford, and then called Patterson aside and thanked him for his good work; he must take good care of himself, for he would certainly be used frequently in the box. Lyford followed with similar compliments, and a troop of others followed Lyford. Even O'Connell came heroically with his meed of praise; and while offering congratulations on his rival's success contrived to explain that he himself had not felt at his best that day, and that it always took time for him to get his arm into shape in the spring. Unquestionably Patterson was the hero of the day. And what of Owen? He, too, had his share of attention. Lyford assured him that he had played a good game, Poole informed him that he had hit well, some one else spoke of his throwing. But this was all. No one held him in any sense responsible for the pitching, not even those to whom Patterson protested that the credit belonged to Owen. Such statements were to be expected from a modest, reticent fellow like Patterson, who had kept his light hidden under a bushel all the year. CHAPTER XVIII DISAPPOINTMENTS