e, changed the signal for another. Dale pitched
suddenly, and Thorpe, swinging with all his strength to meet the sort
of ball he thought was coming, missed, with ludicrous dismay.

He fouled the second one, and then let two go by. Finally he missed
again, fooled by a sudden change of pace and a slow ball when he had
expected speed. A cheer went up from his team-mates that still further
heartened Tompkins.

"Who's an easy mark now, Red?" taunted Frank Sanson, pounding his glove
delightedly. "Here's where you get yours, too."

"I should worry!" retorted Conners, dancing to the plate with every sign
of confidence. "That was only a fluke; it won't last."

Dale's eyes narrowed a bit as he surveyed the grinning, freckled face
before him. Ordinarily, he and Red were on good enough terms, but at this
moment he felt a slow, smoldering anger against the fellow who, he felt,
had been the main cause of forcing Ranny out of the box. "Here's where
I even up," he muttered.

He took Bob's signal, and promptly, yet without apparent haste, he
pitched. The ball left his fingers and whistled over with a slight
inswerve. Conners swung his bat fiercely, but encountered nothing but
empty air.

"One!" muttered Tompkins, under his breath. "Two more, now--just two
more!"

The next was a ball, and Conners let it pass. Then came a slow one
delivered with a swing and snap that fooled the batter into striking
before it was well within his reach. As he regained his balance he
scowled slightly and shook his head. The grin still stretched his lips,
but it had turned into a grimace.

Dale's heart began to pound. Over and over again he was saying to
himself: "One more! Only one more! I _must_ get him--I've _got_ to!"

Silence had fallen on the field. The batter's team-mates had left off
their gibing. It seemed as if every fellow gathered about the edges of
the diamond was holding his breath.

Dale's right hand drew back slowly, and for an instant he cuddled the
ball under his chin. Then, like a flash, his arm shot forward and a gray
shadow whizzed through the air.

The ball was high--too high, many a breathless onlooker thought at first.
But suddenly it flashed downward across Conner's shoulders. Too late
the batter saw it drop and brought his bat around. There was a swish, a
thud--and the umpire's voice was drowned in the shrill yell of relaxing
tension that split the throats of the victorious team as they made a
rush for Tompkins, standin