Amid a silence that was almost painful, Dick waited for the first ball. It came, but he did not move his bat. "One strike!" called the umpire, and there was something like a groan among the Kentfield players. The next was a ball, and the following one looked as if it was going fairly over the plate. But Dick did not attempt to hit it. "Two strikes!" It was like a death knell. "He's cutting it pretty fine," murmured the captain nervously. "Hamilton's all right," said Coach Hale confidently. A moment later there came a resounding crack, as Dick's bat met the ball fairly. The horsehide went up in a graceful curve, and then sailed far out toward right field. "Go on! Go on! Go on!" yelled Captain Rutledge, but his voice was lost in the roar that greeted Dick's hit. The young millionaire was leaping toward first base, while the right fielder was sprinting after the ball. "A home run! A home run!" begged the coach, and it looked as if Dick would do it. He got to third, and started for home. The fielder had the ball by this time, and relayed it to second. The man there threw it to third just as Dick left. Possibly it was an error of judgment, but Dick kept on. He could distinguish no coaching instructions now above the yells, though Hale was calling to him to remain on the bag. But Dick kept on. Then, by some curious chance, the third baseman, instead of sending the ball home, held it in his hand, and raced after Dick. It was a contest of legs now. The baseman ignored the demands of the catcher to throw the ball, and leaped after Dick, who ran as he had never run before. He saw a vision of the game won, and, though his breath was coming in labored gasps, he did not stop. There was a mist before his eyes. His legs were tottering. "Jove! But he can run!" whispered Dutton. "I never saw anything like it!" "You bet!" agreed Glen fervidly. On and on ran Dick. One quick glance over his shoulder showed him the baseman at his heels. He expected every moment to see the catcher get the ball, and put him out. But the horsehide did not come, and, the next instant, when Dick felt as if he could not go another inch, or draw another breath, he dropped, and slid home in a cloud of dust. "Safe!" cried the umpire, and, as he spoke, the baseman, realizing the proper play, threw the ball. But it was too late. Dick had brought in the winning run. "Wow! Wow! Wow! Hamilton! Hamilton! Hamilton! Whoop!" yelled the frenzied players. Above their shouts could be heard the shrill cries of many girls. From the stands burst forth mighty cheers. A crowd of the cadet players surrounded Dick and would have carried him on their shoulders had he allowed them. They patted him on the back, and even punched him in their uncontrollable joy. "Hamilton, you're entitled to the thanks of the entire school!" cried Coach Hale, rushing up, and wringing Dick's hand.