three balls and one strike called, he forced the
batter to foul, and then shut him out on a dizzy inshoot that he
failed to connect with, being called out by the watchful umpire.

The eleventh inning saw no difference in the prevailing score, which
after both clubs had had a turn at bat remained the same, eight to eight.

"Why, anything is possible with those two boys going as strong as
they are right now," the Belleville rooter was saying. "That pitcher
of yours, Scranton, is no slouch, believe me. He isn't hardly in
the same class as Kinsey, but your fellows are supporting him in
great shape, and saving many a run by fine field work. But of course
we'll win in the end; we're bound to. One of our boys will put in
the big wallop and circle the bases on a trot, and then it'll all be
over but the shouting. It's no disgrace to be whipped by a Belleville
team, Scranton."

"Spell able first!" taunted the visiting fan, still filled with
implicit faith in his school representatives.

It was now the beginning of the twelfth. Hugh had again talked to
his fellows, and once more implored them to get busy with their bats.

"Don't ever get the notion in your heads that you can't hit Kinsey's
shoots and drops!" he told them, as Julius Hobson selected his bat,
being the first man up. We've just _got_ to work a man around the
circuit this inning."

"If we don't we never will next time, because it's the unlucky
thirteenth," remarked another, who, like many baseball players,
seemed to have a touch of superstition in his make-up.

"The thirteenth is as good as any other," Hugh told him, reprovingly;
"and if we reach it I hope you'll not lie down on that account. Julius,
you're due for a wallop, remember."

"Sure thing, Hugh, watch my smoke!" chuckled the other, as he stepped
blithely out and tapped his bat several times on the plate after
a fashion he had, while Kinsey was eyeing him reflectively, as though
trying to remember what the long and short suit of the Hobson boy was.

Then he sent in a screamer which Julius as promptly sent far out
in the heavens, and started running like mad for first. They could
see the long-legged Conway out in left field sprinting like a huge
grasshopper in hopes of getting under the soaring ball in time to
set himself for the catch. As if by a preconcerted signal everybody
in the grandstand and the bleachers stood up, the better to see
what happened, because it was a most critical point