bawled
and beat their seats and kicked the floor!

Ken took a longer moment of deliberation. He showed no sign that the
critical situation unnerved him. But his supple shoulders knit closer,
and his long arm whipped harder as he delivered the ball.

Salisbury, a poor batter, apparently shut his eyes and swung with
all his might. All present heard the ringing crack of the bat, but
few saw the ball. Raymond leaped lengthwise to the left and flashed
out his glove. There was another crack, of different sound. Then
Raymond bounded over second base, kicking the bag, and with fiendish
quickness sped the ball to first. Kern, the umpire, waved both arms
wide. Then to the gasping audience the play became clear. Raymond
had caught Salisbury's line hit in one hand, enabling him to make a
triple play. A mighty shout shook the stands. Then strong, rhythmic,
lusty cheers held the field in thrall for the moment, while the teams
changed sides.

In Wayne's half of the sixth both Weir and McCord hit safely,
but sharp fielding by Place held them on base.

Again the formidable head of Place's batting order was up. Keene lined
to right field, a superb hit that looked good for a triple, but it had
not the speed to get beyond the fleet sprinter.

Ken eyed the curly-haired Prince as if he was saying to himself:
"I'm putting them over to-day. Hit if you can!"

Prince appeared to jump up and chop Ken's first pitch. The ball
struck on fair ground and bounded very high, and was a safe hit.
Prince took a long lead off first base, and three times slid back
to the bag when Ken tried to catch him. The fast football man
intended to steal; Ken saw it, Dean saw it; everybody saw it.
Whereupon Ken delivered a swift ball outside of the plate. As
Prince went down little Dean caught the pitch and got the ball
away quick as lightning. Raymond caught it directly in the base-line,
and then, from the impact of the sliding Prince, he went hurtling
down. Runner, baseman, and ball disappeared in a cloud of dust.
Kern ran nimbly down the field and waved Prince off.

But Raymond did not get up. The umpire called time. Worry Arthurs
ran out, and he and Weir carried Raymond to the bench, where they
bathed his head and wiped the blood from his face.

Presently Raymond opened his eyes.

"Wull, what struck me?" he asked.

"Oh, nothin'. There was a trolley loose in the field," replied Worry.
"Can you get up? Why did you try to block that football rusher?"

Ra