as if victory should be easy.

They blanked the Jackrabbits easily in the first inning, and, obedient
to orders, attacked the pitching of the youngster, Hoskins, with every
art known to them. They coached noisily, they waited at the plate,
they crowded close to the plate and they ran at the ball.

"What's that bird got?" demanded Clancy as each batter returned to the
bench. "Nothin', eh? Nothing, and you swingin' your bat like you was
stirrin' apple butter? Nothin'? Say, you fellows get busy and make a
run or two."

In spite of the orders, the abuse and criticism heaped upon them by the
anxious manager, the Bears were not able to hit the balls offered by
the tall, cool youngster picked up by the Jackrabbits from some obscure
club. He had steadied from his early symptoms of stage fright and was
pitching beautifully. His curve ball angled across the plate, his
speed jumped high across the shoulders of the batters. The fifth
inning came with the score nothing to nothing.

The players no longer were confident. The batters no longer came back
to the bench with reports that the pitcher "had nothing," but they grew
serious and anxious and silent. They tried bunting, but the
Jackrabbits were prepared and checked the assault. They changed, and
instead of waiting they hit the first ball pitched. They realized now
that they were engaged in a contest with a pitcher of merit, for they
knew the difference between hitting unluckily and hitting good pitching.

Wilcox, a quiet, studious pitcher, was among the first to realize that
the youngster was pitching well.

"Get a run for me, fellows," he begged. "This kid has a world of stuff
on the ball. Just meet that fast one--poke it, and it may go over
safe. Get a run for me and we'll trim them."

The veteran was pitching slowly, cautiously. Two or three times the
Jackrabbits threatened to score, but each time Wilcox put another twist
on the ball and stopped them. Inning after inning he pleaded with his
fellows to make a run, and Clancy stormed and grew sarcastic with each
failure.

"Get him this time, fellows; finish it up," begged Clancy when the
Jackrabbits had been blanked. Norton was the first batter. He chopped
his bat with a short stroke and sent a safe hit flying to right. A
sacrifice pushed him along to second base and the crowd commenced to
cheer as Pardridge came to bat. The big fellow drove his bat crashing
against the first ball. It went on a line