l
pitched by Bart. He drove it whizzing past Hodge, who did not have time
to touch it.

Carson trapped it cleanly, scooped it up, and threw it to Higgins at
first.

"Out!" shouted Kilgore.

"Great support, Berlin, old boy!" laughed Bart, as the second team
trotted in, and Sparkfair's nine took the field.

"Now we want to take a little fire out of this bright Spark, boys," said
Bart. "We need a couple of runs right off the reel. Who's the first
hitter?"

"I am," answered Sam Higgins.

"What's your position on the list?"

"Third."

"All right. Play your own game."

Higgins stepped out and swiped rather wildly at the first two balls,
missing them both.

"Make him get it over, my boy!" urged Bart.

With Sam anxious to hit, Sparkfair did his best to "pull" him on wide
ones, but Higgins let them pass, and three balls were called.

"Now you have him where you want him," came from Hodge. "If he doesn't
cut the pan, you will saunter."

Sparkfair attempted to cut the pan with a swift one, but Higgins hit it.
It was a hot grounder to Netterby, who fumbled it long enough for
Hungry Sam to arrive at first in safety.

Tommy Chuckleson and Sam Scrogg were on the coaching lines.

"We're off again!" shouted Scrogg.

"Off again, on again, gone again!" piped Chuckleson. "It's up to you,
Balloon! Don't take an ascension!"

Abe Bunderson, nicknamed "Balloon," was the next man to strike. Ere he
left the bench, Hodge whispered in his ear:

"Bunt, my boy. You know what Joe Crowfoot can do throwing. Higgins can't
steal. Sacrifice him to second."

Balloon nodded.

He obeyed instructions, bunting rather awkwardly, yet skillfully, and
sacrificing himself at first, while Higgins took second.

"Hodge next!" called the scorer.

"You're up against it now, Sparkfair," came from Lawrence Graves, as
Bart stood forth to the plate.

"I'm scared to death!" laughed Dale. "See me tremble! See me vibrate!"

The infielders crept in for a bunt, while Sparkfair pitched a swift,
high ball.

Hodge attempted to drop the ball just inside the first-base line, but
made a foul tip, and the sphere plunked into young Joe Crowfoot's mitt.

"Don't pick 'em right off the bat, Joseph," remonstrated Bart. "If you
get so close, you'll catch the ball before I have time to hit it."

The Indian boy smiled grimly.

"Mebbe that keep you from tying score," he said.

Sparkfair worked cautiously with Hodge, and, as a result, two balls were
calle