d Bill Garwood. They had not "made" the
team, although they liked and understood the game. But they were
"dyed-in-the-wool" rooters for their team, and especially for the
Rushton boys upon whose shoulders rested so much of responsibility for
the fate of the game.

As luck would have it, they were surrounded on every side by the Mount
Vernon boys, many of whom were accompanied by pretty girls who had come
to see the downfall of the invaders. Some of them knew very little of
the game, but that did not dampen their enthusiasm, and they clapped
their hands and waved their flags whenever that seemed the right thing
to do.

One of them was seated right alongside of Lester, and he and Bill could
not help hearing her conversation.

Her escort, in an interval between innings, was trying to tell her of a
game he had recently seen.

"This fellow was a fast runner," he remarked, "and he stole second base
while the pitcher wasn't looking."

"Stole it!" she exclaimed. "Why, I thought the bases were fastened
down."

"They are," the young man laughed, "but he stole it just the same."

"I think that's just disgraceful," she said indignantly. "Did they
arrest him?"

Her escort explained what he meant, and she looked relieved.

"A minute later, he tried it again," he went on, "but this time the ball
was too quick for him, and the runner died at third."

"Oh, how dreadful! I suppose he had been running so hard that his heart
gave out."

Bill nudged Lester, whose face was purple with his efforts to restrain
himself.

Again her escort patiently explained that the incident at third had been
in no sense a tragedy.

"That made two out," he went on, "but the next man at the bat lammed the
horsehide--No," he interrupted himself hurriedly, as he saw another
question trembling on her lips, "the horse wasn't in the hide. I mean,
he hit the ball and made a home run. That rattled the pitcher and he
went up in the air."

"Let's get out," whispered Bill to Lester. "I can see that she'll ask
him whether it was a baseball game or an aviation meet."

"It's his own fault," replied Lester, as he followed his companion to
another part of the stand where they could give free vent to their
mirth. "You can't blame her for not understanding baseball slang. I'll
bet after this that he'll stick to plain English."

"Look at those clouds coming up!" exclaimed Bill suddenly. "I'm afraid
rain's coming before the game is over."

"And our fellows