e for the humiliation of his hero.

A moment later all this vanished from his mind as he crossed the diamond,
his heart beating unevenly, every sense concentrated in the task before
him. He was greeted by a burst of joshing from Conners and the others,
but he scarcely heard it. Quite without self-consciousness as he was,
the remarks of the crowd, with most of whom he was on friendly terms,
meant nothing to him. It was merely an obvious attempt to rattle him to
which he paid no heed, so intent was he on gaging the boy who stood, bat
in hand, a little to one side of the plate.

Tompkins had warmed up a little before the game, and now, after throwing
a few to MacIlvaine, he found the plate and nodded to the batter to
resume his place. All the afternoon he had been sizing up the different
batters, noting as well as he could the strength and weakness of each
one. He thought he knew the sort of ball Jack Dillon could not hit
safely, and promptly he proceeded to send it up.

In that very instant something in the fellow's face told him that he had
blundered. His heart leaped with the crack of leather meeting wood; he
caught his breath almost with a sob as the ball whizzed past his vainly
reaching arm. There was no answering thud behind him. Bob Gibson had
missed! Heartsick, he saw the runner shoot down from third and cross the
plate. Close at his heels, it seemed, the fellow behind him rounded
the sack and started home. Suddenly he doubled back, and Dale realized
with a gasp of thankfulness that Gardner had nipped that second run
with a fine throw to the plate from center-field.

He was trembling a bit as he caught the ball from MacIlvaine and moved
slowly backward, turning it nervously in his hands. There was a sick,
sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. All about him the opposition
were yelling joyously as if it were only a question of minutes before
the game could be counted theirs.

"Another easy mark!" shrilled Conners. "We've got him going, too. One
good single, Irish, and we take the lead. Come over here, Blakie, and
coach. I'm up next."

Dale brought his teeth down hard and his jaw squared. He'd show Red
Conners who was easy. Stepping into the box, he met the confident grin
of Roddy Thorpe. This time there could be no mistake. He knew Roddy's
game through and through. His eyes dropped to where MacIlvaine crouched,
giving a signal from behind his mitt. He shook his head slightly, and
Bob, with some reluctanc