"That's all there is to it," declared Wiley, "and I'm excruciatingly surprised that there should be even that much. Go 'way back, Mr. Locke!" Again Jones surveyed Lefty with his piercing eyes, and for the third time he pitched a shoot that was not quite across. As if he had known it would not be over, the batsman made not even the slightest move to swing. "Some guessing match!" confessed the Marine Marvel. "Now, however, let me give you my plighted word of dishonor that you're going to behold a specimen of the superfluous speed Jonesy keeps on tap for special occasions. Hold your breath and see if you can see it go by." The ball did not go by; Lefty hit it fairly and sent a safety humming to right. CHAPTER XII TOO MUCH TEMPTATION "Is it poss-i-bill!" gasped Cap'n Wiley, staggering and clutching at his forehead. "I am menaced by a swoon! Water! Whisky! I'll accept anything to revive me!" Fred Hallett hurried to the pan with his bat. "It's my turn now," he said. "We've started on him, and we should all hit him." Locke signalled that he would steal, and Hallett let the first one pass. Lefty went down the line like a streak, but Schaeffer made a throw that forced him to hit the dirt and make a hook slide. He caught his spikes in the bag and gave his ankle a twist that sent a pain shooting up his leg. "Safe!" declared the umpire. Locke did not get up. The crowd saw him drag himself to the bag and sit on it, rubbing his ankle. Schepps bent over him solicitously. "Dat was a nice little crack, pal," said the sandlotter, "and a nifty steal. Hope youse ain't hoited." But Lefty had sprained his ankle so seriously that he required assistance to walk from the field. A runner was put in his place, although Wiley informed them that they need not take the trouble. And Wiley was right, for Jones struck Hallett out. It was impossible for Locke to continue pitching, so Matthews took his place. And the southpaw was left still uncertain and doubtful; the game had not provided the test he courted. Weegman apparently had departed; there was no question in the mind of Charles Collier's representative, and, angered by the rebuff he had encountered, he was pretty certain to spread the report that the great southpaw was "all in." He had practically threatened to do this when he declared that every manager and magnate in the business would soon know that Locke's pitching days were over. The Wind Jammers, spurred on by Cap'n Wiley, went after Matthews aggressively, and for a time it appeared certain that they were going to worry him off his feet. With only one down, they pushed a runner across in the eighth, and there were two men on the sacks when a double play blighted their prospect of tying up, perhaps of taking the lead, at once.