to show that he understood, and then
danced away in the direction of third base as before.

The first ball pitched to Jack Rover was a slow in-curve, and he
stepped back and allowed it to pass him.

"Ball one!"

At this decision a howl of delight went up from the followers of Colby
Hall, while a corresponding groan came from Hixley High.

"That's the eye!"

"Better get a pair of glasses!"

"Sure! The umpire must be blind! That was a perfect ball!"

"Sure it was a perfect ball! That's the reason he called it a ball!"
came from Andy Rover, who sat on the substitutes' bench.

The second ball delivered was a fairly good one, although rather low.
Jack swung at it, and high into the air spun the sphere, well back of
the catcher's head.

"Foul!"

"Run, Billy, you can catch it!"

Flinging off his mask, the Hixley High catcher rushed back toward
where the ball was coming down. But it was too far away for him, and
it struck slantingly on one of the back posts, rolling off toward the
grandstand.

"Line it out, Jack! Don't be fooling with fouls!" yelled Fred Rover.

"Show 'em where the river is!" added Randy Rover.

The next ball to come in was a wide out-curve, and again Jack let it
pass him.

"Ball two!" shouted the umpire.

"That's the way to do it, Jack! Make 'em give you what you want!"

With two balls against him, the noted pitcher for the high school
exercised a little more care in his next delivery. He sent in a
straight, swift one, directly over the outer point of the plate. It
was not exactly what Jack desired, but it was good enough, and he
swung at it with all his strength. Crack! And the ball went sailing
directly over the head of the shortstop and into the field beyond.

"Run, Jack! Run! It's good for a two-bagger!"

"Leg it, Dan! Leg it for home!"

"Send the ball in, Wiffles! Don't let 'em get home!"

These and a hundred other cries rang out as nearly every spectator
sprang to his or her feet in the excitement. Dan Soppinger, half way
to third when Jack made the hit, had now touched that bag and was
tearing for the home plate.

In the meantime Jack, running like a deer, had passed first and was
making for second. The shortstop had made a high but ineffectual jump
for the ball, and now he and the fielder behind him were both after
the sphere. There was a short mix-up, and then the fielder sent the
ball with unerring aim toward the catcher at the home plate.

"Slide, Dan, slide!"

And t