but most of them saw Dick's
short, vigorous shake of the head as he palmed the ball.

Then he let it go, for Darrin was waiting, and in grand old Dave's
eyes flashed the resolve to retrieve what had just been taken from
the Navy.

"Darry can't lose, anyway. He'll take the conceit out of these
Army hikers," predicted some of the knowing ones among the Navy
fans.

"Ball one!"

Though not sure, Dave had expected this, and did not try keenly
for Dick's first delivery, which, as he knew of old, was seldom
of this pitcher's best.

Then came what looked like a high ball. Of old, this had been
the poorest sort for Darrin to bit, and Dick seemed to remember
it. But Darrin had changed with the years, and he felt a swift
little jolt of amusement as he swung for that high one.

Just about three feet away from the plate, however, that ball
took a most unexpected drop, and passed on fully eighteen inches
under the swing of Darrin's stick.

"Strike one!"

At the next Darrin's judgment forbade him to offer, but the umpire
judged it a fair ball, and called:

"Strike two!"

Dalzell, on the bench, was leaning forward now, his chin plunged
in between his hands.

"Dick Prescott hasn't lost any of his knack for surprises," muttered
Danny. "And if we, who know his old tricks, can't fathom him at
all, what are the other seven of us going to do?"

As the ball arched slowly back into Dick's hands, Dalzell, in
his anxiety, found himself leaping to his feet.

And now Prescott pitched, in answer to Greg's signal, what looked
like a coming jump ball.

Dave Darrin knew that throw, and was ready. In another instant
he could have dropped with chagrin, for the ball, after all, was
another "drop," and Greg Holmes had mitted it for the Army in
tune to the umpire's:

"Strike three-out! Two out!"

"David, little giant, your hand!" begged Dalzell, in a fiery whisper
as his chum reached the bench.

"What's up?" asked Darrin half suspiciously.

"Agree with me, now---make deep and loud the solemn vow that we'll
use Dick and Greg just as they've treated us!"

"We will, if we can," nodded Darrin, more serious than his chum.
"But I always try to tell you, Danny boy, that it's best not to do
your bragging until after you've scuttled your ship."

Just as Dave had stepped away from the plate, Hutchins, the little
first baseman of the Navy, had bounded forward.

Hutchins was wholly cool, and had keen eye for batting. He hoped,
de