all came to earth
he was not quite under it although he made a frantic effort to get it.
And by the time he had picked it up and relayed it to shortstop Roy was
turning past third. And by the time shortstop had his hands about it and
had turned, Roy was almost at the plate. And by the time--But what's the
use in drawing a story out in this way? Roy beat that ball to the plate
by at least two seconds. And in one more second he was being literally
carried to the bench in the midst of a howling, shrieking, dancing mob
of Ferry Hillites.

Perhaps Ferry Hill would have continued the game until her third man had
been put out had she had a chance. But when the spectators take it into
their heads to have a war-dance in the middle of the diamond, ball
playing is extremely difficult. So Chub shouted something to the umpire,
the scorer slammed his book shut on a score of 8--7 and pandemonium had
everything its own way.

Here and there a Ferry Hill player tried to sneak back to the gymnasium
undetected, but in every case he was captured and placed high up on the
shoulders of frantic, joy-crazed friends. There was no band there to
lead that triumphant procession around and around the diamond, but no
one felt the necessity for one. There was noise enough without it.

Roy, swaying unsteadily on the shoulders of a little group of hatless,
red-faced youths, looked down on the sea of pushing, panting figures and
grinned happily. Chub, clinging desperately to the heads of two of his
bearers, charged through the throng in Roy's direction.

"Hello, there!" he bawled. "Use your spurs and come on!"

But Roy's bearers needed no spurs. They charged the crowd and Roy went
bobbing through a little forest of upraised eager hands. Then the
procession took some semblance of form and began its march around the
bases according to time-honored custom. As Roy, following closely behind
Chub, passed third, he found Doctor Emery and his family beside him. The
Doctor was smiling broadly, Mrs. Emery was waving a diminutive banner
and Harry was dancing and shrieking, her red hair floating in disordered
wisps about her face. She caught sight of Roy on the instant and darted
toward him.

"Wait! Wait!" she commanded shrilly.

Roy's bearers waited, laughing and panting protestingly.

Harry reached up and tossed a crimson sweater about Roy's shoulders.

"I'm so glad, Roy," she cried breathlessly. "And it's all mended; I did
it myself!"

Roy nodded, dre