irst South Grammar fellow out. The next man
at bat took first on called balls. The next hit a light fly that
was good for a base. The player who followed sent a bunt that
Dave, as short-stop, fumbled. And now the bases were full.

"Oh, you Ted!" wailed the South fans hopefully. "Do your duty
now, Teall!"

Ted gripped the bat, stepping forward. As he reached the plate
he shot at his schoolmates a look of grim resolution.

"I'll bring those three fellows in, if I have to kill the ball,
or drive it through a fielder!" muttered Ted resolutely. "If
we can tie the score then we can break this fearful hoodoo and
win the game yet."

"Don't let that pitcher scare you, Ted!" yelled a South encouragingly.
"He hasn't a wing any longer. It's only a fin."

"Codfish fin, at that," mocked another.

"Bang!" retorted a dozen Central fans.

Before the answering chorus could come Dick Prescott held up a
hand, looking sternly at his sympathizers.

"Strike one!" called the umpire, and once more Teall reddened.

"I've got to brace, and work myself out of this," groaned red-faced
Teall. "There's too much depending on me."

"Ball one!"

"Now, I hope the next one will be good, and that I can hit it
a crack that will drive it into the next county," muttered Ted,
feeling the cold sweat beading his forehead.

He judged wrongly, on a drop ball.

"Strike two!"

"Drive a plum into that pudding in the box, Ted," sang out one
of his classmates.

"Ow-ow-ow!" shrieked a score of watching Central Grammar boys.
That was the last straw. Ted felt the blood rush to his head
and all looked red before him.

"Strike three! Side out! Game!" came slowly, steadily from the
umpire. Then the score-keeper rose to his feet.

"Central Grammar wins by a score of three to nothing."

This time Ted Teall didn't throw his bat. Gripping it savagely,
he stalked over to a group of his own schoolmates.

"What fellow was it that started the yelling?" demanded Ted huskily.

"Why?" challenged three or four of the Souths.

"I want to know who he is---that's all," muttered Ted.

In a moment there was a mix-up. But Teall wasn't popular at that
moment. A captain who had led his men into a whitewash was entitled
to no very great consideration.

"Let go of that bat!" roared Ted, as he felt it seized. "Let
go, or I'll hit some one with it."

"That's what he wants to do anyway," called out one of the boys.
"Yank it away from him!"

The bat torn from him, T