“I’ll fix him!” muttered the bully sourly, and then sent in a ball directly over the plate. Andy was there to meet it, and the way he lined the sphere down to left field was a sight to behold. Down he pounded for first while Pepper legged it for all he was worth for home. The ball came in, but too late and while Pepper was called safe Andy managed to slide to second amid a renewed cheering. “Thirteen to fourteen!” was the cry. “And only one man out! Now is your chance to tie the score!” Coulter walked down to the pitcher’s box. “Keep cool, Reff,” he whispered. “Don’t let them rattle you.” “They are not rattling me,” was the dogged answer. But the very tone of his voice showed the bully’s nervousness. Stuffer was now up and he, too, was nervous. He watched the pitcher as a cat watches a mouse. Ritter sent in a ball that was remarkably swift. It came directly for Stuffer’s head and he had barely time to pull back out of the way. “Ball one!” cried the umpire. “Say, what do you want to do, kill me?” cried Stuffer angrily. “I—er—the ball slipped,” answered Ritter lamely. “Bat it down to the woods, Stuffer!” cried one of the supporters of Company B. Following the ball came two strikes and the supporters of Company B grew sober, thinking Stuffer would strike out. But then the lad who loved to eat hit the sphere fairly, sending it just over the second baseman’s head. He gained first while Andy, who had stolen to third, came in amid a cheering that was deafening. “A tie! A tie! The score is a tie!” Bart Conners, the captain of Company B, was now to the bat. Bart was a better military officer than a baseball player, yet he resolved to do his best for his command. He bunted the ball, reaching first on a fumble by Coulter, while Stuffer got down to second. Conners was followed by Fred who, so far, had done but little to aid Company B to win the match. Fred had two strikes called on him, and it looked as if he would be put out when he met the sphere fairly and squarely and sent it far down into the center field. “Run! Run! Everybody run!” was the cry, and amid great excitement Stuffer ran in, followed by Bart. Fred got to third and might have reached home but Ritter got in his way, sending him flat on the grass. “Two runs! Company B wins!” “My, but that was a dandy hit!” “He ought to have come in.” “Ritter got in his way on purpose!” “I didn’t do anything of the kind!” growled the pitcher. “If anybody says I did I’ll punch his head!” “Are you hurt, Fred?” asked Jack, running to his chum’s side. “I—I guess not,” was Fred’s reply. “But he bumped into me pretty lively.” A lively discussion followed, and in his rage Reff Ritter threw the ball on the grass. “You are all down on me—I won’t pitch any more,” he growled, and started to walk from the field. “As you please,” answered Pepper. “We have won the game anyway.”