o put a crimp in your wing," muttered Wells.

"That's all right. It's a tough wing. Don't let the Centrals
score anything on us in this inning."

"I'll do my best to help you hold 'em down," promised the South
Grammar catcher as he hurried to his place behind the plate.

Dave Darrin, to his intense disgust, was struck out on three of
the most crafty throws that Teall had on his list. Hazelton followed.
Another player reached first on called balls, but the next Central
boy struck a fair, short fly that landed in Ted's own hands.

"That was more like," grunted Ted, as he met his catcher at the
bench. "In that first inning these Centrals had me almost scared."

In the second half of this second inning the Souths scored one
run. They did the same in the third and the fourth innings, meantime
preventing Prescott's fellows from scoring again, though in the
fourth inning Prescott saw the bases full with Centrals just before
the third man was struck out.

In the fifth and sixth innings neither side scored. At last the
spectators began to realize that they were watching two well-matched
nines.

"I can't see that the Central Grammars are doing such a lot of
a much," grunted Hi Martin to a High School boy.

"The Centrals are playing fine ball," retorted the High School
boy. "The only trouble is that the Souths rank pretty close to
them."

"I'd like to play both teams again," asserted Hi. "All that happened
to us was that we struck a few flukes when we played."

"Humph!" retorted the High School lad, just before turning away.
"Your North Grammar nine was kicked all over the field by both
of these nines. Both Prescott's and Teall's fellows have improved
a lot since they met you."

Hi subsided, feeling unhappy. It hurt him to hear any one praise
a fellow like Prescott.

"I wonder if they could beat us, if we had another try?" pondered
Hi. "But what's the use of talking? Prescott would never think
of giving us another chance. He's too thankful to have lugged
the score away from us before."

In the eighth inning Teall brought in one more run for the Souths,
who now led.

"We've got to work mighty hard and carefully," grunted Tom Reade.

"Yes," assented Dick briefly.

"We're beaten, anyway, I guess," sighed Hazelton.

Dick Prescott wheeled upon him almost wrathfully.

"We're never beaten, Harry---remember that. We don't propose
to be beaten, and we can't be. We're going to bat now to pile
up a few more runs. The