walked out and called for his men to follow him off the field.

"I'm with you," said one of them. "I think you're right, Feather, and
I'm done."

"Yes, take Booby along with you, Feather," said Dale. "I thought likely
he might hoist the white flag."

"We'll stop the game!" sneered Featherstone. "The team can't play
without us. Kilgore can forfeit to you, and you may feel as proud as you
like over your victory."

"Perhaps we'll be able to pick up a pitcher and a second baseman to fill
the vacancies," said Sparkfair, looking around. "Who'll volunteer? Any
one will do. We want to finish out this practice game."

"Come, Carson," urged Hodge, "let's you and I go into that game. I'll
pitch, and you play second."

"I'm all out of practice," said Berlin.

"And I'm not a pitcher, you know," reminded Hodge. "We can limber up and
have some amusement, anyhow."

He offered their services, and his offer was promptly accepted by the
second team, not a little to the dissatisfaction and dismay of
Featherstone.

"I'm the captain of that team," cried Guy, "and I order it off the
field!"

Bart walked up to the angry boy, placed a hand on his shoulder, and
looked straight into his eyes.

"I'm afraid you're just what Sparkfair has called you, my son--a
quitter," said Hodge, in a low tone. "The rest of the boys are going to
play. You and your friend had better run over to the Hall. Trot along,
now."

Muttering and growling, Featherstone turned away.

Hodge and Carson removed their coats, vests, collars, and neckties, and
prepared for business.

"How does the game stand?" asked Bart, as he walked out to the pitcher's
position.

"Score is five to three against you, and this is the sixth inning,"
answered Sparkfair. "You have your last turn at bat."

"How many men out?"

"Two."

"Come here, catcher," invited Bart. "I'll have to know your signals."

Walter Shackleton hurried to meet Hodge and explained his system of
signals. Bart listened and nodded.

"Give me a few minutes to get the kinks out of my arm, Sparkfair?" he
asked, as he again resumed the position at the pitching plate.

"Sure, sure," smiled Dale. "Go ahead and unbend your wing."

Hodge threw a dozen balls to Brooks at first. Then, with Lander, the
next batter, standing back, he sent two or three over the plate to
Shackleton.

"All right," he finally nodded.

"Play!" called Kilgore.

Jake Lander stepped into the batter's box and smashed the first bal