as again up,
was dangerous, tried two wide ones to start with; but the fellow did
not even wiggle his bat at them.

"Get _into_ it!" called Rackliff suddenly, as Phil swung into his
delivery for the third ball.

Dingley seemed to fall back from the plate a little, and again bat and
ball met squarely, an inshoot being sent humming over the head of
Cooper, who made a ludicrously ineffective jump for it, the ball
passing at least ten feet above his outstretched hand. But Piper,
leaping forward and speeding up surprisingly, made a forward lunge at
the last moment, and performed a shoestring catch that brought the
entire Oakdale crowd to its feet with a shout of wonderment and delight.

Eliot calmly removed the catching mask and swung the body protector
over his head. "Royal support, Phil," he observed, as Springer trotted
happily toward the bench.

"The greatest ever," returned Phil. "If they can only keep it up----"

"You'll do your part, all right," assured Roger. "Every fellow can't
hit you the way those three did. Now, boys, we'll lead off with the
head of the list. Let's get after Sanger again."

But apparently Sanger had recovered his best form during the brief rest
on the bench, for again he fanned Nelson and Barker; and, although
Springer hit the ball, it was an easy roller to the Barville twirler
himself, who confidently and deliberately tossed Phil out at first.

In the meantime, one or two indignant Oakdaleites had gone at Herbert
Rackliff and driven him away from the ropes back of first base, Herbert
resenting their remarks concerning his loyalty, and rather warmly
asserting that he had a right to bet his money according to the
dictates of his judgment.

In the fourth Springer's work justified the confidence Eliot had
expressed, for he followed Sanger's example by striking out Pratt and
Whiting and forcing the dangerous Copley to hit weakly to the infield.

"Another goose egg for them," exulted Chipper Cooper. "It begins to
look like a shut-out. These two tallies of ours may be a-plenty."

"You don't want to get any such an idea into your head," returned Eliot
promptly. "Two runs are mighty few; we must have more. Here's Old
Stone, who started us going before."

Stone started it again with a cracking two-bagger, and, when Eliot
poked a daisy cutter into right, Ben scored on it.

The efforts of the coachers to put Sanger off his feet, however, were
fruitless, Crane fanning, Grant expiring