who batted first, led off with a screaming two bagger, and went to
third, when Tom Binns was thrown out. Pete Stubbs batted next, and was
so anxious to make a hit that he popped up a little fly to the first
baseman. But Jack Danby, with a rousing drive to center field, put his
team ahead, for he ran so fast that he beat the throw to the plate, and
made a home run, as Pete had done before him.

"That's great, Jack!" cried Tom Binns. "Gee, I thought we'd never get
a lead on them! They can't hit much, but they've certainly got a good
pitcher."

Jack trotted contentedly out to his position for the last half of the
ninth inning. The Crows seemed certain to win now, because Tom Binns'
pitching had been getting better every inning, and in the last two
times they had been at bat the Whip-poor-wills hadn't been able to get
a man to first base, much less get anywhere near making a run.

The first man up now made a little tap, and the ball rolled toward the
third baseman, who muffed it. The next got a base on balls, and the
third was hit. The whole game was changed in a second. Tom Binns
seemed to be rattled. Try as he would, he couldn't get the ball over
the plate, despite Bob Hart's efforts to steady him, and in a moment he
passed the fourth batter, forcing in a run, and leaving the
Whip-poor-wills only one run behind, with the bases full and none out.

Two or three of the Crow fielders looked anxiously at Jack, and Pete
Stubbs called from his position at shortstop.

"I say, Bob," he cried, "better change pitchers. Tom's wild and can't
see the plate."

Jack himself was more than anxious. He felt desperately sorry for poor
little Tom Binns, who had been tremendously proud of being chosen to
pitch for his team, and he was afraid, as were the others, that the
sudden rally was more than Tom could check.

"He's going to leave him in," cried the center fielder to Jack as Hart
shook his head at Pete's suggestion that he take Tom out of the box.
And Tom began pitching again to the fifth Whip-poor-will who stood at
the plate brandishing his bat.

Jack Danby knew a lot about baseball that was planted in him by sheer
instinct. And now he did something that was against orders and
entirely different from what any other amateur outfielder would have
thought of doing. It smacked more of big league baseball, where
thinking is quick. He crept in, inch by inch, almost, while Tom Binns
pitched two balls and a strike, unti