ied Phil, giving his chum a resounding open-handed
slap on the shoulder.

"That was reaching for it some."

"I sure didn't think I could touch it," confessed Rod; "but I was bound
to try my handsomest for it." Which was characteristic of the young
Texan.

"They're cheering for you," said Phil. Then jovially he reached and
lifted Rod's cap with one hand, at the same time using the other hand
to give his companion's head a push, thus forcing him to bow.

Newt Copley surveyed Oakdale's right fielder disgustedly. "That was a
fearful blind stab," he said sourly. "Didn't know you had it, did you?"

"Not till I looked to see," acknowledged Rod pleasantly.

Eliot gave the boy from Texas a look of approval. "That's the way to
get after them," he said. "That's playing baseball and supporting a
pitcher."

"I was pretty rotten, wasn't I?" said Phil with a touch of dejection.

"Far from it," returned the captain, "you were pretty good. Copley was
the only man who really made a bid for a hit."

"Sure," chipped in Cooper. "I was the real, rank thing, and if they'd
scored I'd been responsible for it. I should have nipped Whiting
without a struggle."

Phil suddenly felt better, as it was true that none of the first four
men to face him, the pick of the enemy's batters, had hit safely; for
which, cutting out Grant's performance, he was immediately inclined to
take the credit, due quite as much, however, to Eliot as to him.

Sanger warmed up a bit by whipping a few to Larkins at first, while
Copley was buckling on the body protector and adjusting the mask.
Oakdale had put her second baseman, Jack Nelson, at the head of the
batting order, and Jack did not delay the game by loafing on his way
into the batter's box.

"Get the first one, Sang!" barked Copley, squatting behind the plate
and giving a signal. "He looks like a mark. Keep him off the pan, Mr.
Umpire; make him stay in his box." Then, under his breath, speaking
just loud enough for Nelson to hear, he added: "Not that it makes any
difference, for you couldn't hit a balloon."

"Couldn't I!" muttered Jack, strangely annoyed, for there was something
indescribably irritating about the manner in which the red-headed
catcher had sneered those words.

This irritation grew when Sanger warped over two zig-zags, and Nelson
missed them both. Copley made no further remark, but his husky
chucklings over the batter's failures, sent the blood to Nelson's head
and assi